I am a great oral reader, a pretty good amateur actress, and a fair teacher. I know quite a lot about the English language; I can sew a straight seam, knit a sweater, carry a tune if I am surrounded by good strong sopranos, and answer my share of the questions on JEOPARDY. But--athletically, I am a klutz.
I was eight years old before I could negotiate a somersault, and I never could skip more than one rung on the monkey bars. I am a jacks, jump rope, pick-up-sticks and ping-pong dropout.
Yet my athletic history is not totally bleak. I earned "A's" in high school physical education: my PE. clothes were clean each Monday, and I showered after every class. I earned my school letter in the Girls' Athletic Association by making the five stipulated hikes each year and riding my bicycle the required seven miles from my home in Brookings to the home of my P.E.teacher/G.A.A. adviser at the State Line Motel, just across the California border.
On the other hand, not all my high school athletic endeavors were so successful. Thrilled to my sophomore toenails to be invited by a college freshman, I ventured out onto the ski slopes--the beginners' ski slopes. The most memorable part of that ill-fated day was the agility with which the other three members of my party untangled me when I fell off the beginners' rope tow.
My athletic prowess did not increase with age or higher education. College PE. also proved frustrating. One "C" appears on my college transcript--yup--in tennis. Then there was the term I carried 22 hours, acted in a play, and missed a 4.0 by one "B"--in badminton. I earned a "B" in fencing too--all the girls did.
But athletic success did not completely elude me. In 1965 I took 303rd place in singles in the Women's International Bowling Tournament, and a couple of years later my husband instructed me in the correct way to shoot skeet. I powdered the first one out of the trap. I never hit another one, but that first shot was impressive. I have yet to fall down at one of the 25 annual junior high roller skating parties I have chaperoned, and I made seven points in the student/faculty volleyball game.
Regardless of these fleeting moments of success, I know that I am still a klutz, so until this week, I have limited my athletic endeavors to walking eight laps around the junior high track at 5 a.m. each weekday morning. I tried walking the neighborhood, but I tripped over a rough spot in the sidewalk and had to go to the emergency room to have the gash in my eyebrow sewn up.
Well, I am one klutz who had made good, and I do want to share my moment of triumph. A few weeks ago my friend Wilma asked me if I would be interested in signing up for golf lessons with her. I pondered the idea until the day before the lessons started and finally decided, "Why not?" So I picked up Wilma, and we drove uneventfully to a local golf course, bought our left-hand glove and joined the other ten students in the club-house for the video explaining the rules of the game. Then we were shown how to grip the club, a surprisingly complicated and detailed procedure. We were all deeply engrossed in the shape of our "V's" and whether they pointed toward our right shoulder when all of a sudden the instructor pointed at me--Klutzina. "Look at her!" he exclaimed.
My heart sank; my face burned with shame. How could I have messed up so badly so quickly? Then he continued, "She has the perfect grip!" The perfect grip--can you imagine ME with the 'perfect grip"? My burning shame turned to glowing pride. At last I had found my game. Who would have thought it would be golf? Who would have dreamed I would be gifted with the "perfect grip"? I do not know how soon I will go professional, but I do get to hit the ball at my next lesson.