The Club can't even handle me.

Wetberg's World: What's happenin? I'll tell you. Get off.

I've been back on the holy grounds of Northwestern College for about 3 weeks now. Why 3 weeks? Class has only been going for 2! Yes, this is true. However, I have a confession to make: I made an attempt to become a two sport athlete. I wanted to live the Eric Bender dream of being an Eagle in two separate sports. (This doesn't include CC and Track, because they are basically the same thing.)
Three weeks ago today, I was moving into my dorm room and reacquainting myself with the wild memories of Moyer Hall- a place I can call home.
So yes, I was a fall athlete at NWC for 5 glorious days. What inspired this? Can't I be content in my wetness on the basketball floor...I mean...on the team?
Let's move this story back about 6 weeks when I was nice and drugged up. I had surgery on my knee. Don't judge me like that! 6 weeks of no basketball was 5 too many for me. I needed a replacement. Now, everyone who's reading this from NWC is crossing their fingers to read about I had 6 weeks of immense spiritual growth and found something everlasting to lean on. I did that sort of, but I also spent a lot of my time hitting up the twilight golf rate at the local country club. Just when I thought i couldn't get any whiter, I threw on some khaki's and a polo and marched up and down the links for a few weeks. Well...I went from average, to slightly above average, but by no means good. This inspired me to try out for the Prestigious NWC Men's Golf team.
Why in the world would I do that? I played one year of JV golf in High School. Why not compete at the D3 level? It would allow me to move in to my dorm 5 days earlier, leave the God-forsaken town of River Falls (haha jk), and treat myself to 63 free holes of golf and numerous "free" meals at the cafeteria. In your face Northwestern!
Anyways, I played consistently inconsistent and brought out the best/worst in my power slice strategy. I sprayed the ball to every fairway on the course. I played the correct fairway rarely. The only club that couldn't handle me was my 8 degree devil stick, My driver.
After the first set of cuts, I dodged under Coaches lathe and lived to die another day. That day came and the phone rang after I posted an embarrassing 99. Coach had so much sympathy in his voice. He was really pulling for me, but all I could say was thank you. Thanks for $150 of free golf, $50 of free food, and a free five days in the holy grounds we call Moyer Hall.
I did exactly what I came to do. I came, I saw, but I failed to conquer. Many memories were made on those finely trimmed fairways, but more were made in the roughs, the bunkers, and the woods. No homo.
Now the knee is supposed to be back in working order for basketball, and my miles of walking and carrying cheap golf clubs has paid off. The minute I got cut, I shook my head and said, "Basketball season begins today".
I'm in the process of learning to find my wetness again. Lord Willing, it won't take long.
It's great to be back at Northwestern though. The quartet has been reunited and all under one roof. Bed before midnight has become a thing of the past, and studying is only an option if there's nothing better to do.
That being said, I should really get some work done.
Thank you to all my faithful readers. Props to Mark Titus on his latest blog, Kimberli Wende for her new blog, my boy Lib for his brief blog updates, and Walt for his romantic love letter that I may or may not have read...aloud. I plan to get back at it soon with some shout outs and hopefully some short, but direct letters to people who have really made me shake my head.
As always, Stay Wet

-Wetberg