It’s been said that the “worst day on the golf course is better than the best day at the office,” a sentiment likely originated by someone with the emotions of a tree stump.  I don’t know about you, but I’m rarely so frustrated at work that I swear at the top of my lungs, or feel like throwing something out the window.  But these are the realities for some – no, most – avid golfers, who have pledged on more than one occasion to “quit this stupid game.”  My round last weekend personifies this Byzantine I-love-this-game-no-I-hate-it relationship:

It started pleasant enough.  A slight breeze kept the August sun at bay.  The grassy scent from the freshly cut fairways was a refreshing invitation and a reminder of why I play.  Golf is supposed to be relaxing, right?  “Now on the #1 tee, the Raines twosome,” roared the clubhouse loudspeaker, alarming me to stop hitting range balls, and head to the first tee where my dad was already warming up.  I try to play a couple times a week in good weather, often with my dad, to catch up and take advantage of the club membership he has (that I don’t).

I won’t qualify for the PGA Tour any time soon, but compared to your average weekend hack, I’m decent.  My best score ever is a 75, and regularly shoot in the low 80s, or high 70’s on a good day.

So then, I was thrilled to be playing ‘par golf’ through the first seven holes — with one birdie, one bogey, the rest pars — which is never a bad thing when you’re a 10 handicapper.  I was dialed in like a sniper at a shooting range.

On the 8^th hole, at even par, I stuck an approach shot to just 10 feet from the hole.  A very makeable birdie putt.  Could I possibly go UNDER par?!  I studied the break with a pitcher’s focus on a 3-2 count.  I saw some left-to-right break, and played the putt accordingly.  The ball hung out wide, then curved back towards the hole to complete its destiny.  I could feel a Tiger Woods Fist Pump coming.  But then, one foot out, the ball buckled right, horseshoed around the hole, and lipped out.  HOW. DID THAT NOT. GO IN.

Straggling to the next tee, I could not get over the missed opportunity.  In a moment of doomsday self-prophecy, I told my dad “I guarantee, looking back after the round, that’s gonna be the defining moment that changed everything.” My tee shot: A hook right into the trees.

The good news? I found my ball.  The bad news?  It was under a huge oak tree, and unplayable.  Drop #1.  Breath in, breath out.  Or not.  I shanked my next shot left into the other tree line.  Au revoir, stupid little white ball.  So having to take another drop, I was sitting one, two, three, ah…four.  That’s right, sitting four on a Par 5 with about 200 yards to go.

My next shot actually went towards the green. Woohoo! But not on it.  I’d need another shot for that.  And finally, now on the green in six, I somehow carelessly banged a 15-foot putt close enough to finish it off with my next putt, for an EIGHT on the hole.  In golf circles, we call that a Snowman.  A Snowman is almost as dreaded to the golfer as snow on the ground itself.

It was time to refocus.  I was like a Deal or No Deal contestant who just lost his or her last big money case, desperately trying to assure themselves and the crowd saying “It’s okay. IT’S OKAY.   $1,000 is still great.” I’m just +3 now, no big deal.  I can just make a few birdies and be right back there, I told myself.  (As if birdies are just waiting to be had for a 10 handicapper in a downward spiral fit for an ESPN special of Sports History’s Greatest Blowups.)

Do I need to tell the rest?  You can see where this is going.  The rest of the round: Bogey, bogey, par, par, par — hey wait a minute, am I getting back on track? — er, no.  Another triple bogey on the way, this time for just a seven!  Small victories, people, small victories.  And so despite being Even through eight holes, I managed to play +9 thru the next 10 holes, and finish at 81 for the round.

Moral of the story?  If you haven’t yet, don’t take up golf — it will mess with your mind in ways you didn’t think possible.  Seriously, just don’t.  Take up a sport or hobby that won’t make you want to throw your clubs into the pond, or worse, feel like taking the club to whatever (or whoever) is closest to you.  I know several people who were decent golfers, tried to raise their game with a lesson or two, only to get much worse.  In fact, it took me six months to recover from a hideous unintended swing change I made after some lessons a few years back.  So I’ll say this: if you like doing things where you’re good one day and terrible the next, regardless of how much practice you put into it — then this game is for you!

Epilogue: two days later I was back on the course.  I chipped in from off the green for a birdie…which was nice.  “Those are the shots that keep us coming back, aren’t they,” my playing partner said.  Yep.  The minute you think you have everything figured out, you’re ruthlessly put in your place.  And when you’re ready to give up, you hit a miracle 40-foot putt and start the process all over.

The golf gods giveth, and they taketh away.  And thus summarizes the love/hate relationship between man and golf ball, and maybe even life itself.

Rest of the world, take notice: America can play (and beat you at) your game.  It can’t be denied any longer.  For a U.S. soccer fan like me and many others, this is the day we’ve been longing for.  Finally, in a major competition with the world watching, we show what we’re capable of and topple a major power.

While the U.S. has beaten elite teams before — #1 ranked Brazil over a decade ago and England over 50 years ago, for example — this is different.  No one really paid much attention then.  But with growing popularity and with the 24/7 media frenzy we now live in, a win like this will reverberate all across the internet, TV, radio, and elsewhere forcing casual sports fans and even soccer haters to take notice.  Those on the fence, maybe disappointed with the ‘06 WC showing, will have a new reason to get excited and support U.S soccer.

If the team keeps playing well and puts in epic performances like this, it will be able to do what Pele, David Beckham, and everyone else before them couldn’t — make soccer a mainstream, popular sport in America.  No doubt it has made great strides over the years, especially in the last decade.  But it’s a shame it isn’t bigger, because the ‘world’s game’ is the only meaningful, truly competitive professional sport played internationally.

In other countries, save for the occasional special event (for example, Wimbledon and the British Open for the UK), soccer is IT.   Nothing else in sports really matters.  But America has football, baseball, basketball, hockey, NASCAR, golf — among other smaller niche sports — all competing for the sports fan’s limited time and attention.   Then you add in the collegiate and high school levels, it’s not hard to understand why a soccer culture hasn’t broken into the mainstream.

Most of the sports media have definitely done their part in keeping it that way.  The bloviating gasbags on TV, radio, and the sports page would rather comment on Terrell Owens getting kicked off a reality show and some random baseball player’s post-game comments than ever substantively discuss soccer.  And the 2 seconds they do spend on the sport is often the predictable condescending mockery of how boring, stupid, and wussy it is in their diluted world where football, baseball, and basketball are the only sports that exist.

But being born and raised loving American sports, too, I think there’s definitely room for soccer, especially on the international level.  I’ve been to NCAA Final Fours, NBA playoffs games, big football and hockey games, and rarely miss a major event in ANY sport on TV…and nothing compares to the passion, excitement, drama, and emotion I feel from a big U.S. soccer match.  Only the Olympics come anywhere close, but even that pales in comparison.

To many, soccer (football) is so much more than a game.  It’s a culture, a religion, a life.  They live and die off of every corner kick, every save, every shot.  But you don’t even have to like soccer to be filled with pride for your country as your national team takes the field to represent the US of A, in the biggest competitions in the biggest sport in the world.

And finally, I have a few words for these dinosaurs in the media, and haters everywhere: This is only the beginning.  Soccer in America is here to stay and is only going to get bigger.  So while you sit back and bash it, the rest of us will be cheering on the Stars and Stripes as they become a world soccer power.  Hell, maybe even bring home the world cup one of these years; I bet then you’ll probably jump right on the bandwagon.  But for now, as you sneeringly predicted we were going to get thrashed and embarrassed by Spain today: Shut up and eat your plate of crow.

Don’t tread on me.