Maybe tooooooo much

I need to stop swearing on the golf course. The sound travels across the grass and kids and the religious right don't need to hear some freaking loud "F..K" interrupting their back swing or breaking their concentration while trying to putt.

The game's hard enough without crazy distractions.

On the other hand, I think there should be tournaments where people are allowed to yell during a back swing. Concentration is concentration and if done properly then no outside sound should interfere with the swing thought.

I only swear loudly four or five times during a round, but those moments, in which the harsh words come out, are simply a alternative to throwing my club in the lake.

One of the problems is that the course we play at is frequented by senior ladies and junior kids.

I suppose if I was playing Bel-Air I would receive a verbal reprimand from the President.....unless of course he was also a swearer.

Certain words have become regular parts of our daily language but I do realize that a large contingent of our population still cringes when they hear MotherF..ker and other commonly used dock worker and pro football terms.

Yesterday I was playing consistent golf until the 7th hole and then three huge F..ks bombs popped out on three consecutive shots.....I looked up after the last one and a gentleman I knew was on an enjoining tee and he was simply shaking his head.

I wonder why my father never says anything? He's 92 and has strong opinions on most subjects and I've never heard him swear. I think the Marine Corp trains you how to control that area of your brain.

I, on the other hand, only had the nuns making sure I toed the line and by the time I broke away from their control I was a swearing motherf..ker.

The game of golf demands a certain level of control...both mental and physically....that I obviously do not possess, even though yesterday I might have had the best shot of my life. A beautiful, extremely high, 110 yard lob wedge that landed one-half inch from the cup.

I think I said motherf..ker....but I think I whispered it.

From this day on I promise to make my verbal reactions on the extremely quiet side....or not at all. Which in turn means a six iron might end up wrapped around a certain pine tree on the 5th hole.

With my luck it might boomerang off the tree and hit me in the head.....or worst....hit my dad.

I'm working on some things.....ok?

Michael Timothy McAlevey