We're Talkin' About The Shanks

There’s been a lot of good progress thus far this week. Parmasters Kitchener-Waterloo moved a little closer to opening.

I continue to seek investors. I can’t say much here about that, but it’s going well, and took a good leap forward this week.

We’re also finally moving ahead with some marketing. Our PR firm is working on a press release and we’re finalizing the center’s website.

We also moved forward on many other fronts, all too small and numerous to mention, but cumulatively, very satisfying. And I had many small tasks nagging at me, many of which were completed recently.

And there’s still two days left in the week! Lots to do!

I practiced (golf) on Wednesday evening, as mentioned in my last post. What I failed to mention – or admit – in that post was my battle with the shanks, of all things, during said practice. I was astounded, dumbfounded, and rather exacerbated. The shanks!

For a while there I was doing a version of Allen Iverson’s “practice” speech. You know the one, “I mean, we’re talking about practice man. We're talkin' about practice. Practice. Not a game. Not a game. Practice man. We’re talkin' about practice. …”

And me Wednesday during my practice, “The shanks. Are you kidding me? The shanks. Shanks. Not crisp contact. Not crisp contact. We're talkin' about the shanks. The shanks. The shanks? …”

I eventually straightened things out, but not before my golf psyche was significantly damaged. So Sunday morning, just after 7:40am, when I hopefully find myself in the middle of the first fairway, about 110 yards out, yes, the shanks may just enter my head.

I plan to practice again Saturday, in an effort to excise the demons.

Peter Lonard speaks quite frankly about a battle with the shanks here (halfway down in the article). Misery loves company!