Seven Years of College ...

... down the drain!
     If only I'd known about places like this when I was 17. Back in those days, I was pretty much clueless about what to do with my life. I ended up enrolling in the local junior college just because I really had no idea what else to do. Golf was my big passion back then, but I wasn't really anywhere near good enough to pursue the only dream I ever had: to become the youngest Masters champion in history. So instead I just kind of floated along the next seven (or was it eight?) years at Parkland Community College and, eventually, the University of Illinois (where I once saw Steve Stricker in the Illini Union).
    Now, I can't say I have any complaints about how things have turned out. I've been very blessed in my life. But if somebody had told me that places like the College of Golf at Keiser University (to cite just one example) even existed, I would have crawled to Florida if necessary to enroll. But I was just too dim back then to realize that there are career paths in golf besides "PGA Touring Professional."
     I mean, just look at the curriculum: classes in "History of Golf: Traditions and Culture"; "Golf Swing Fundamentals"; "Club Fitting and Repair"; "Golf Course Design" (!!!); and "Food and Beverage Services" (I think that means how to drive the beer cart), just for starters.
     The only drawback would appear to be that, as part of your education, in addition to the rigorous classwork and studying, they also expect you to ... play golf! And lots of it. Can you imagine? Students are apparently forced to make liberal use of the area's top-notch courses (with green fees included in the tuition) and world-class practice facility (pictured below), with instruction available from a resident staff of PGA Professionals (also included). Sounds awful, I know.

     I'd write more, but I suddenly can't stop crying for some reason. I just wonder if they have special scholarship programs for middle-aged mid-handicappers trying to learn to play left-handed. (Doesn't that make me a minority?) If they don't, it's probably just because they never thought of it before. A trip to Florida to enlighten them is probably in order.
     Honey, don't wait up! I'll be back in less than 72 (credit) hours.
     Oh ... and will you call the office for me?