(Golf) Ball is Life.

Yesterday, the northeastern United States was supposed to get hit by one of the worst blizzards of all time. There was supposed to be snowdrifts eight feet tall (I don't really know if that's true, but I'm too lazy to fact check and #Snowmageddon was a thing) and yetis roaming the street (again, #Snowmageddon). Needless to say, out of deference to the local yeti population, who apparently don't get out much, UMass Amherst kindly decided to close campus for the day. 

Now, there are a lot of things you might associate with a snow day. If you're a child it might be building snowmen and having snowball fights, or if you're from Alaska, it might be crippling seasonal depression. Regardless of who you are or where you're from, golf is usually not something you would associate with a snow day. Not the case in our apartment. No, in A309, the golf season never ends. For us, the Golf Channel has become constant ambient noise in our living room the way SportsCenter has in living rooms across America. 

Over the last few days, however, we've taken it up a notch. We've transcended the Golf Channel. It started as a bet between my roommate and I while we were sitting around one night watching a Knicks game. I don't know if you've ever had to watch a Knicks game, but its pretty rough going for pretty much the whole game, especially when you're a Knicks fan like my roommate. So, I bet my roommate that I could chip a ping pong ball into the empty trashcan that's sitting in the corner of our living room before he could. Using the spare set of clubs that belong to a mutual friend and that live in our apartment for some reason, we traded shots back and forth until one of us made it. From there, it snowballed, and pretty soon we were hitting chips, pitches, and puts from every conceivable angle and in every direction our apartment would allow. 

At one point, I was using a seven iron to hit a low fade down a fifteen yard hallway, which is no more than four and a half feet wide, into a moderately-sized cardboard box. Some people might call that an addiction, which it is, but golf is my crack and some days I need that fix. Ultimately, the golf season never ends, it just slows down for a bit while we let winter play through.

Keep your head down.