It’s high time for New Year revolutions

When it comes to ringing in the New Year, I’m a failure for one big reason: I’m a really crappy resolutioner … resolver … whatever. (See what I mean?)

This year, though, things are gonna be different. I hereby resolve, resolutely, to do better. I promise that this year, I’m gonna come up with some doozies. And these aren’t going to be your regular, plain ‘ol resolutions, either.

These ones? They’re bigger than that. They’re special. They’re … they’re … revolutions. Almost.

Yup. And I’ll keep ’em all. Every last one of ’em. Forever … or a week. You watch.

Let’s start with the most painful: I will shoot less. And pass more. No matter what. Even if I’m open. Even if the rest of you aren’t. (Of course, after everyone’s missed one or two, I reserve the right to reconsider and begin gunning again).

I will also (grudgingly) play more defense, even if it kills me. And I may even try to rebound once in a while. Or I may not. Let’s not push our luck.

I will take no more pot shots at Joanne Palombo-McCallie, nor at Cindy Blodgett. (Those extremely polite, well-reasoned constructional critiques I’ve been offering all along, however, are still fair game).

I will climb a mountain or two. A quick disclaimer: The first one will probably be a very small mountain, for a couple of reasons: 1) I’m not too fond of heights, and I’m kind of overweight and out of shape; and 2) I’m a nice guy, and I don’t want to make the authorities round up a posse of sherpas just to haul my injured carcass down from the summit if I should blow a hoof or sprain some lard during the ascent.

I will eat more and run less. … Oops. I got that one wrong. I will eat less and run more. (This revolution will not take effect until my doctor tells me that a previously stress-fractured leg is fit to be abused again. How much after will depend on what’s on TV and how cold the weather is).

I will pay more attention to friends, and ignore more adversaries. … funny how often it works the other way, isn’t it?

I will fish more and catch more. Or I’ll fish more and catch far more. Or I’ll fish more and catch less (I guess what I’m saying here is, this equation is still entirely dependent on the whims of the fish, no matter how much equipment I buy). Of course, I’m going to tell all of you that I caught every fish in the lake, and since I’m a firm believer in catch-and-release, you can’t prove a thing. (See? That won’t change, either!)

I will use fewer parentheses … and ellipses (honest).

I will try a new sport. Maybe archery. Maybe curling. Maybe ice archery. Maybe deer curling. We’ll figure this out a bit later.

I will eat a few vegetables and lose weight and like it.

And then I will get a new photo taken and display it at the top of this column. Either that, or I’ll not lose weight and see if our photo department can take a picture that makes it look like I’m skinny again. (They’re doing a great job with those snazzy digital cameras nowadays, so anything’s possible).

I will be kinder to people, whether they deserve it or not … unless they re-dangle my undangled participle while editing an otherwise pristine piece of prose (just kidding, boss).

I will golf with people who can beat me. … of course, if I don’t, I won’t end up golfing very much.

I will compliment my golf partners on their swings. Even if they hit a ball that nearly brains me. Even if they hit it into the woods. Or the road. Or the lake. Always. (Unless I’m too busy laughing).

I will become a better golfer, not through gimmicks, nor new clubs, nor any other method than good ol’ practice. … and some creative accounting practices.

I will have more fun. I will love. I will laugh. I will … I will … I will.

Hopefully, you will, too. Happy New Year.

John Holyoke is a NEWS sportswriter.