(11-16-2019, 11:44 AM)CornFed Wrote: (11-16-2019, 09:10 AM)Hulk01 Wrote: Great feelings in sport, ranked:
1. A hole in one;
2. scoring a long touchdown;
3. the feel of a good ride under your feet on a surfboard;
4. a backhand to the opposite deep corner;
5. stepping onto a grass football field for a night game (actually might rank as my number one.);
6. feeling an opponent collapse from your block or tackle;
7. vicarious: watching Marcus Haynes dribble a basketball. . .
Really bad feelings:
1. The last 100 meters of a 400;
2. the last 150 meters of an 800;
3. your opponent hitting a screamer than hits the flag and stops within tap-in distance
4. playing golf with the guy at Stanford GC who takes--literally, I timed it--58-61 seconds from the time he addresses his ball to the time he takes the club back. (Anyone else suffered through this?)
As to #4 bad feelings:
I have played for forty years with a very nice man who has a similarly incomprehensible pause at address. I wait, and wait, and wait, and wait and wait. Then I begin to lean as I anticipate walking to my ball - at first ever so subtly, but when I time it too tightly I can almost fall over before he pulls it back. Of course, sometimes I make a big production over falling over and roundly ridicule him for his anal retention.
Talking to him about it he has told me that he is adhering to Shivas Irons's guidance to "Wait it oot". I feel that if he has that much negativity flowing through his system, maybe he should take up bingo or something.
Also, another orgasmic type feeling I would note from golf, as long as we're listing such things, is the feeling of a perfectly struck 1-iron or a driver off of a thin, hard-pan lie. It is as much about the inner sense of accomplishment as it is about the physical sensation.
I was playing golf with my dad a quarter century ago, still with persimmon woods. Dad was a mid-single digit handicap player at the time. We were at Santa Teresa, long par-5, playing from the tips. Dad teed off with a two-iron, common for him at the time. Left side of the fairway, very nice lie, and a VERY long way to the green, about 240 yards.
A marshal stopped to watch him. Dad hits it stiff to the pin, about three feet away. The marshal says to my 50 year dad, "Son, that was the finest golf shot I've seen on this course in 40 years."
I think that was Dad's second-happiest moment that day. First happiest moment was when I signed us up in the pro shop, and the attendant says, "all right, Mick brothers teeing off at 10:07." Dad was 19 when I was born, and was very young looking in general. He walked sprightly all day that day.