I’m writing this just before getting to bed. My plan is to sleep from 1030pm to 630am. This should be eight hours of sleep which is good. I have been staying up too late and missing out on sleep.
Waking up at 630am gives me an hour extra to play with too.
Let’s see how it goes, night night.
My time as a teenager obsessed with sport has run out, of course. I’m older but I still love sport. I wish I could have the chances I had again. It makes me nostalgic to think of chances missed. But I digress.
This morning I took one of the girls to the clubhouse (we’re staying at a golf resort, leaving tomorrow – which reminds me I need to play again before we go) for a drink and snack. Still early, there was a golf competition about to get under way. There must have been around 60-70 teenagers all warming up, practicing putting and looking very serious about the game ahead. My guess is it was a junior provincial tournament.
South Africans have very high standards for organising sport and youth in sport. There is so much for a child to do in SA compared to other countries, especially in Africa. This applies to most sports. As they grow up, my girls can surf, play soccer, netball, hockey, squash, swim, cycle, run, and have the facilities to do it for years and at a high level if they choose. This is unique in Africa.
The teenagers were funny to watch. There is a certain seriousness mixed with awkwardness that attaches itself to teenage sport. I remember it well.
They had a hot day well spent under the African Sun.
With most things, an hour a day will make it better. Whether it’s an hour of exercise, an hour of cleaning up, an hour of meditation, an hour of writing.
Only 8 hours in the day though.
The question then becomes, what 8 things am I going to do today?
People gravitate towards food. The food courts in shopping malls are the busiest parts. Ideal for people watching.
I’m almost done for the year finding gifts for family. We go back to Kenya in a couple of days and I’m pretty excited to get there and into the Christmas spirit.
Til then lots of organising to do. Some final purchases, lining up some work for next year, sort out the house and cars while we are away. Make sure the dogs are fed.
That sort of stuff is what people are escaping in malls and food courts. Responsibilities and work.
My coffee is done. Time to get to it for two more days.
Tiger Woods has completed a comeback for the ages, winning his 80th (!!) PGA tournament after huge public meltdowns, divorce, multiple surgeries, and all the uncertainty that goes with it. I am a big fan. I think this comeback is a great thing.
Why is this great? I saw on Twitter a person questioning why so many people are interested and are applauding Tiger when he has clearly shown his faults and vices to us over the years. The basic gist was that he’s a nasty man not worth celebrating. He’s a womaniser and a snob. A drunken philanderer. A thug Alpha Male. But this simplistic assessment misses the point.
So what is the point then? The point is that we see ourselves in Tiger. We see a microcosm of all our talents, our possibilities, all our failures and all our potential for redemption. His is a complete comeback story with a near-perfect arc in terms of drama and recovery. To write off such a story as immoral and uninteresting is to misunderstand what being a human is. We humans relate best to stories. To archetypes. Tiger’s story has everything required for an amazing spectacle. He has been through hell and come out the other side with a new back and a changed personality. And my God, he plays nice golf!
Judging celebrities is easy. What’s rare is a celebrity who can offer us such a journey to the top, the bottom and back up to the top again. Enjoy the drama as it unfolds in real-time. I’m backing him to win another major soon.
I have just gotten chimpwithcans.com registered.
It feels good. It costs money. It’s mine.