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CHAIRSIDE Golf: It's What Really Makes by Montgomery Vickers, O.D. Well, after two or three
years in the making, I figure it's high time I get around to presenting the much-awaited Dr. Vickers "Annual" Golf Update. Now, two years plus later, I am pleased
to announce that I no longer lose an average of four balls a round, and that my handicap has greatly improved to 21. (WOW!) Before you give up on my golf career,
remember that I am 46 years old and still have nine years to get good enough to play for the senior tour. And if all else fails, I may even shoot my age by the time I'm 110.
In the past couple years however, I've made a little progress on my game. There have been some improvements that I'm delighted share with you:
• I can now "shape" my shots. I can fade. I can draw. I can hit straight. But I can't consciously choose the shape. I think God must decide this with each swing.
• My bad shoulder and achy back are no longer problems on the course. I have switched to bad feet instead. • I have not hit myself in the left leg with a drive in months.
• I own two pairs of golf shoes now thanks to a sale at Value City.
This just goes to show you that hard work and a brutal practice schedule of nine holes every two weeks does matter when it comes to the majestic sport of golf-a game that is so indigenous to the Society of Optometrists.
Speaking of optometrists ... Last week I attended the annual meeting of the West Virginia Optometric Associa-tion. This wasn't just any meeting; it was a golf outing.
And of all the important activities in which the members of the WVOA participate in a year, none is more crucial than the annual golf outing. This year it was held at the Green-brier in White Sulfur Springs, W.Va.
If you have not heard of the Green-brier, it is one of the most magnificent, storied resorts in the country. According to those fancy, schmantzy travel magazines, the
Greenbrier is the number one resort destination in North America, and one of the top five resorts in the world. The hallowed grounds contain three golf courses that are
beyond belief, as well as spas and salons galore for the family, and unbelievable cuisine. And it's all right here in almost heaven ... my home state of West Virginia.
One of the finest optometrists in West Virginia, Dr. B.J. Nibert, was given the dubious honor of organizing the year's tourney. When he asked me whom I wanted in
my foursome, of course I wanted Dr. Nibert himself. That is, after he explained that my first requests—Naomi Campbell and Christie Brinkley—were not available for
the event. I'm sure Naomi and Christie's disappointment was matched only by my own. My other choices were Dr. Tom Stout, who examined my eyes in 1994 and gently
asked, "How old are those contacts?" and Dr. Greg Browning, who nominated me for the Goofy Hat Award for my Tilly hat. Unfortunately, I was touched out by Dr.
Odekirk in his freakin' straw porkpie, although this is currently under appeal. He may have lost his amateur status as a goofy dresser at the mid-winter meeting last November.
As expected, the outing came off without a hitch. We all breathed a sigh of relief when no one was hurt on the first tee. And of course, I blistered the course with a
searing 107. Everyone had a marvelous time overall except Dr. Browning, who was very depressed that he only beat me by 20 strokes. Better luck next time, old bean.
Oh yeah, we also had meetings. A must, I suppose, at an annual meeting. But golf, as always, was the main at-traction. Such is life as an optometrist. Ain't optometry grand? Take a swing at Dr. Vickers by writing him at Review of Optometry, 201 King of Prussia Road, Radnor, PA 19089. reviewofoptometry@jobson.com.
I'll have to keep you posted about my stellar handicap performance in my next golf update. (I know you are all on the edge of your seats waiting for this, even before you
read the rest of this one.) I swear to be truthful. But keep in mind while you're reading, this very wise, anonymous quote I like to remind myself of when I'm out
playing..."Golf scores are directly proportional to the number of witnesses..." |
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When I left you last, I was struggling with a 25 handicap, but enjoying the little moments that thrill all golfers. Moments such as finding your ball. Or anyone's ball, as long as it's similar to
your ball. That way, you can holler, "Here it is," and show it to all your friends and fellow golfers. Funny how the trees can turn a white ball into an orange one.