Old BC's other men

A few years ago, The Old Ball and Chain, to whom sports was her nemesis, fell in love with golf.

Well, not golf really. The true object of her new desire (obsession even) was, of course, Tiger Woods. Previously, she treated all sports, that demon thief of television time properly reserved for the thrills and spills of HGTV or Oprah, like Thor treated Loki. Previously, the preferred male icon; the zenith of masculinity to which your humble scribe was perpetually forced to unsuccessfully aspire; the apex of sex appeal; was Denzel Washington.

Then one Sunday, while complaining bitterly about the time spent by her worthless, witless husband watching sports, her focus drifted, in the middle of a particularly complex mischaracterisation (something about me being an indolent, inconsiderate rogue), to the young man on the screen. Dressed in red T-shirt, black trousers and perfectly polished black shoes, he was perched on a cliffside, in imminent danger of falling to the rocky shoals below, addressing a golf ball. Nobody else would have the nerve or audacity (or lunacy) to attempt such a trapeze act. Everyone else would've long ago accepted a penalty stroke. Of course, Old BC didn't immediately appreciate this. "Look," she cried, "see how his shoes are so shiny? Why can't you ever polish your shoes like that?"

Golf 101

Then she noticed him teetering on the cliff in mortal danger. "OMG!" she exclaimed. "What does he think he's doing? Why's he there? Where's the bowler?" I timidly remarked that golfers don't bowl. "OK, but why isn't he using his stick to help him balance?" My mild-mannered lesson on the difference between walking sticks and golf clubs didn't go down well. "But he can't be expecting to hit such a small ball from there. Why doesn't he pass the ball?"

I surrendered just as Tiger produced the chip shot of a lifetime that not only found the green but ended up less than five feet from the hole. As the gallery went wild, Old BC sat down in awe and a lifelong love affair began. Soon she was a golfing authority. She's not familiar with the cardinal rule of golf, which is that your best round will be immediately followed by your worst ever. And, of course, the probability and proximity of that latter round increase exponentially with the number of people you tell about the former. Old BC's paramount rule of golf is that Tiger always plays badly when he wears white shoes.

Old BC's view of tree-lined golf courses is that they are to guide wayward Tiger drives back on to the course. Any tree failing to provide the proper bounce is immediately the subject of a memo from Old BC to the course director, instructing that it be cut down as a malcontent. For her, a 3 wood is Tiger, Chris and Willie.

No other golfer exists. Any attempt to laud Phil Mickelson's skills is met with a withering glare and a reminder that Phil is fat and not a fluent walker. European greats like Padraig Harrington or Lee Westwood are eminently forgettable, and others regularly on international leader boards like Luke Donald, Martin Kaymer and Justin Rose inconsequential. She tolerates Ernie Els because he's easy-going and has noticed fashion freak Ian Poulter, but don't ever get her started on Sergio Garcia, who once had some uncomplimentary things to say about Tiger. He's definitely the Antichrist.

Cuckolded by Barack

Then, one day in 2004, a young senator from Chicago delivered a speech to the Democratic National Convention. Old BC sat up in bed where she'd been grumbling inconsolably about wicked husbands who force her to watch politics instead of Emeril. Suddenly, she became Mary Wells:

"Well, I've got two lovers,

and I ain't ashamed.

Two lovers, and I love them both the same."

Then Tiger experienced his marital problems, for which Old BC blamed his wife. She who keeps her loving husband's leash tighter than a cow's rear end in fly season found every imaginable excuse for Tiger's repeated philandering. But, quietly, a noticeable shift to Barack began.

"Torn between two lovers,

feeling like a fool.

Loving both of you

is breaking all the rules."

Lyrics for this column come from William 'Smokey' Robinson (Two Lovers); Peter Yarrow and Phil Jarrell (Torn Between Two Lovers).

Old BC placed a large wager with me that Obama would win the 2008 US presidential elections and named the orchid garden thus won her 'Barack Garden'. Will Barack replace Tiger in Old BC's heart? Michelle Obama, watch out!

Peace and love.

Gordon Robinson is an attorney-at-law. Email feedback to columns@gleanerjm.com.