The line of swaying asses attached to various arms and shoulders attempting to properly hit a golf ball at, “ Hit em long and prosper,” Star Trek  driving range this evening was at best dismaying. Jimmy, the ranges token salesman and wannabe golf pro sat behind the counter sipping a haft melted Slurpee rolling his eyes at the mention there were a lot of newbies on the range tonight. Motioning to the blond adjusting her stance for a proper swing on pad seven he replied, “ Good for business. I could watch her swing all night.” One quick look found us both agreeing. Making my way to the first open worn green tee  I could only wonder about the draw of a sport that on the surface only required some training on how to calmly swing a club at a ball and then hit it forward safely. The average Joe watching this sport on television has to be left thinking, “ how hard can it be?” Players flaying drives to the left; to the right and some sourly dribbling balls heralded by the sounds of, “ Hey you did good, try another one,”  fill the lighted range as bands of moths gather in the lights above swarming in a mindless frenzy. The better part of those gathered here tonight will wake with sore backs tomorrow wondering what it was they did to create that pain and mark it up as fun and forget about it. Some however the bug will bite real hard and that set of clubs will find themselves attached to a golf cart in the very near future. After all if hitting the ball is all that is required and one has successfully done that ten out of fifty times why not take ones chances on a real tee. “ FORE”