By Randy Stevens
Sports Editor
July 24, 2008 12:53 pm
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Most sports scribes are not athletes.
We don’t work out. We don’t run. And aside from lifting 12 or 16 ounces at the local tavern, we don’t do any sort of weightlifting.
I can recall begin asked by a football player a couple years ago how fast I though I could run the 40-yard sprint.
“Heck,” I told him. “I’d be lucky to make it 35 yards with out pulling something, or worse, dying of a heart attack.”
I’ll admit it. Some of my best athletic performance come with a video game-controller in my hands.
And when sports journalists try to fool themselves into thinking they could actually participate in the sports they cover, the results aren’t pretty. Just read Paper Lion by George Plimpton or ask me about my ill-fated three-round sparring match with former NABF flyweight Mike Trejo in 1999. Almost 10-years later and my front tooth is still discolored from the pounding I took at the hands of Trejo.
But there is one sport that some of us scribes can play better than other athletes, especially football players. We call it golf.
That’s why I always look forward to the Southland Conference’s annual Football Media Kickoff. Not that it gives me a chance to sit down and visit with all of the conference’s coaches and some of the top players. And it’s not because of the free food and libations graciously provided by the conference, although that’s a close second.
It’s what we get to do on the second morning of the meeting that I really enjoy — playing in the annual golf scramble.
It’s not your ordinary scramble. Media members are paired up with coaches and at least one player in what always turns out to be a lot of fun and a ton of laughs for everyone.
For us media types, most of which are fairly good golfers (maybe “fairly good” is a stretch for my game), it’s a chance to show these young, strong, and fast athletes that overweight, slow and sweaty writers like your’s truly can actually beat them in a sport.
And it drives them crazy.
Such was the case Wednesday at Tour 18 in Houston. McNeese State linebacker Alan Nelson was paired with my group. He’s a smart and personable young man who was a big part of the Cowboys’ SLC title season last year, leading the team with 102 tackles and enters his senior season with 272 career tackles.
That’s all good… for the gridiron. But how was this 6-foot, 2-inch, 210-pound athlete going to fare on the links? Not very well.
It was his first time to play golf, so I knew we were going to be in store for a lot of fun.
Nelson did all right on the first hole, even though he shanked his first tee shot deep into the right-side woods. Squirrels frantically retreated inside their holes when they saw the ball screaming their way, and Nelson could do nothing but laugh.
“At least you made contact,” I told him.
“This ain’t so bad,” he replied.
“Wait. It’ll get worse,” I reassured him.
And it did.
On the next hole, which resembled No. 8 at Bay Hill, Nelson stepped up to the tee, teed up his ball and began to concentrate.
Swish! was the sound the club made as he attempted to knock the cover off the ball. But the ball remained on the tee.
Swish! and there was the swing two. The ball was still on the tee.
After swing three, four and five, the ball remained on the tee and Nelson’s frustration surmounted.
I walked and stood behind him.
“Are you going to give me some tips?” he asked.
“No,” I answered. “I’m stepping back here to enjoy the breeze you creating with that golf club.”
Four more swings and four more misses.
“Dang, I didn’t think golf was going to be this difficult,” Nelson said.
After about three more swings he finally made contact — just enough to knock the ball about 50 yards off the tee. It was a low “worm-burner” that got stuck in the rough.
I was laughing so hard I forgot to hit my drive.
Nelson’s next shot went straight into the woods, while mine climbed somewhat close to the hole. Still, it was the best of the three. We chipped up and had about a 12-foot putt for par. I was the first to miss, then other teammates followed with close misses.
“I got this,” Nelson said, as I started to mark the bogey I thought we were about to score. There was no what this guy was going to make it
But of the sudden, the ball comes off the his putter, rolls straight to the hole and bounces off the back of the cup and in. He wound up sinking our team’s first and only birdie of the round.
That was pretty much the highlight of our round, as all of us, aside from Nelson, we started to succumb to the heat and humidity that Houston always possesses.
Nelson was receptive to a number of tips and eventually started to make pretty good contact with his clubs. He said he enjoyed his golf outing and said he would like to play again once he takes lessons.
Still, I could tell he was frustrated knowing that a non-athletic type like me was better than him at a port.
To him. It seemed unfathomable. For me, it was just damn funny.
Randy Stevens is Sports Editor of the San Marcos Daily Record. Contact him at rstevens@sanmarcosrecord.com
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