The 7-iron

At the driving range, my father said that most people warm up with the 7-iron then move on to something else. So, that's what I did, except I didn't really move on to anything else.

See, the problem with the 7-iron is that it looks like a normal club, but it's not. It's evil. The 7-iron likes to sit in your hand, cradled really, like any other club. It looks like it would hit the ball like any other club, like it would provide a little loft, or maybe distance. No. It won't. Because the 7-iron was wrought from the devil's forge, and there, managed to pick up a little bit of the bad man's soul.

From the top of the swing, it feels fine, through the swing, okay, but at the point of impact? No. Sometimes there is no impact because the club magically shortens or curves or lengthens, causing a rather painful shock when the head hits the ground behind the ball.

Other times, it'll deign to make contact, but maybe it'll just kiss the ball. This makes the ball barely dribble off the mat into the grass. It'll sit there staring at you, accusatory, like you purposely failed it. But it wasn't you, no, it was the 7-iron. And, this little yellow ball sitting a mere four feet from your mat serves a testament to your suckiness. Everyone who walks by, from the just starting tyke with his dad to the seasoned pro, knows what happened. They know that something went terribly wrong with your swing, that your grip was wrong, or your eye left the ball, or your head came up, or your swing was too fast, or that you forgot any of the other myriad of things you have to know to make the ball not sit there and stare at you from a couple feet away.

It would be bad enough if it were just the one ball, but I had a jumbo bucket. JUMBO! So, there they were a couple hundred Easter egg colored balls, laughing at me because I wouldn't relenquish the 7-iron. Wouldn't let it go. Wouldn't move on to something I can actually hit. The 4 maybe? The driver? The 9? No, that whole dang bucket of jumbo balls fell victim to the 7-iron. Their wounded bodies scattered across the outskirts of the battlefield, but never making it into the frey.

ARG! Who plays this game?!