Imrem: It's never a bad time to talk golf
The temperature is 10 degrees … the air is blasting at diabolical speeds … there's a windchill warning …
So let's talk a little golf.
A weekend ago I read an item from Rory Spears on golfersongolf.com that a customer appreciation day was scheduled at the Buffalo Grove Golf and Sports Center.
It took a moment to recall what golf is.
Oh, yeah, that silly game. Played with long sticks and dimpled balls. An exercise in futility to be sure.
Anyway, talk is just as cheap in February as in July when a buddy bores you with a shot by shot, hole by hole recounting of his round.
Yet talk is all there is in February for those of us golfless in Chicago.
The Bears already hired their general manager and head coach. The Bulls and Blackhawks are waiting for the playoffs. Baseball spring training remains a rumor until pitchers and catchers really do report later this week.
So, what to do on these frigid days between episodes of "Better Call Saul" on equally frigid Monday nights?
Ponder golf, that's what.
Not the pro kind at Pebble Beach or Doral; the Chicago kind where duffers throw putters into ponds and mark down 5s that really were 8s.
Only for so long can you lounge at home watching faceless PGA events from Hawaii, California or Arizona that's devoid of Rorys and Tigers and full of Bergers and Beljans.
Here's the answer for the worries of winter: A golf fix at a facility in Libertyville or Bensenville or Addison or in any number of other suburbs between Alsip and Zion.
I'm not a customer at the Buffalo Grove Golf and Sports Center, but it's close to home and, hey, why not seize the opportunity to be appreciated?
In the parking lot, players lifted clubs out of car trunks and walked along a slippery sidewalk toward the dome.
A woman wore Footjoy galoshes, and a guy carried a Big Bertha snow shovel.
Oops, sorry, just kidding.
Seriously, inside was a playground for the golfless on recess from winter.
Golfers empathized with each other. They received putting lessons. They practiced tee, bunker and chip shots.
Most believed against rational belief that they actually were improving.
Popular local TV-radio personality Steve Kashul was on the microphone announcing raffle winners. Manufacturers showed off their merchandise. Customers who were both appreciated and appreciative enjoyed a free lunch.
All in all this was a golfless shelter providing a warm little slice of summer in winter.
The only feature missing was a psychiatrist's couch. Golf is so mentally disturbing that participants need somebody to help them understand why they can't quit the game.
Kristy Vik, general manager of golf operations, dared suggest that I hit some balls.
Not a chance, lady. It's embarrassing enough that people see me hack away aimlessly in summer.
Spring can't come soon enough, though. Like most golfers, before every season I think this is my year. A tweak here or there and I'll be ready for the Champions Tour.
You see, the brief stop under the dome worked wonders for the psyche and the soul.
Now it's back to sports' waiting room and looking forward to our baseball teams capturing the imagination, to our winter teams beginning the playoffs and to no longer being golfless in Chicago.
In the meantime, I'm installing a trick mirror in the bathroom that makes my golf swing look better.
Will somebody please turn up the dang heat in here?