He's Almost Ready for the Tour

My husband, Juan, has another love, and her name is Golf. She has been in his life for three years now, and for the most part, I tolerate her.

Since we married, my husband has had several extramarital involvements. When we lived in Chillicothe, he belonged to a bowling league. He bowled on his league night and practiced at least one other night a week. He watched tournaments on ESPN when he happened on them. He had all the proper equipment: his own balls, fancy shoes, top-of-the-line bag, a stylish towel. He even travelled once to a tournament in Marysville, OH which was an hour and half away from our home. After a successful night of bowling he would say, "Emily, I am almost ready for the tour."

Eventually, he lost interest in bowling, and for a time, when the stock market was a happy place, he loved to research stocks and play with a relatively small account we had for investing. He would come home and tell me all about this company or that and how it was going to revolutionize this or that. Sometimes when he was full of confidence about his financial savvy, he would say, "I think I have missed my calling. I should have been a stock broker." When the market began to go South, his love for it cooled and he turned his attention to other pursuits.

Then he started working on his MBA with his company footing the bill. He went to class every Wednesday for 18 months, during which we added a fourth child to our family. He was a favorite in his class of other professionals because he is smarter than the average bear and could help them through tough courses like Statistics and others that were math-intensive. His study group named themselves Juan.com. When the time to choose a focus rolled around, he chose entrepreneurship. One project in particular consumed him. Each of the groups in the class had a fictional bicycle shop that they built from the ground up in a computer program. There were five or six groups in the class, but Juan.com had 61% of the market share. My husband, who never has trouble sleeping (he could tell me things like, "The mill announced lay-offs will be made in the next few weeks," roll over, and start snoring in seconds), would wake in the middle of the night to work on this fictional bike shop. Needless to say, he was ready to start his own business when he finished the program. We just couldn't think of anything we wanted to do.

Then there was the hand-held "Texas Hold 'em" my mother gave him. His amazing electronic success, paired with the constant airing of poker tournaments on ESPN, had him threatening to break in to the World Series of Poker. Thankfully, that interest was short-lived. Although, he does enjoy the "Texas Hold 'em" application on his Blackberry.

Now, his obsession is golf. He never had much interest before a few years ago when he was asked to join his company's league. He did have a cheap set of Wilson clubs he had had from his days right after college. These clubs embarrassed him, so he bought a set of clubs that were not so embarrassing as the Wilsons but definitely did not convey the message that he was a serious golfer.

He began doing research on the best irons, putters, woods, the best shaft materials, the best shoes, golf bags, golf balls, etc. and bidding on E-bay. For a few years now, we have been receiving long skinny packages in the mail containing my husband's finds and bargains on E-bay to improve his game. He also frequents Golf Galaxy and knows the manager quite well. Now he has an impressive set, complete with a Notre Dame towel (to show his team spirit without being obnoxious) for wiping his dirty clubs. He has two bags, too. He finally got a walking bag so he can get more exercise out of his play.

We have golf balls, golf tees, divot-replacers and clubs all over our house. We have miniature putting green in our living room. He gets Golf Digest every month, watches how-to videos on the web, and watches the Golf Channel. Yawn. He has a player development membership at a local course in addition to the golf league that plays every Monday from April through October. He often hits balls before coming home from work. Sometimes he comes home saying, "Emily, I had an 'ah-ha' moment."

Sometimes he plays so well he says, "Next year, I am joining the tour."