I could not imagine marrying some
of my favorite things in a more cohesive way then the sport of golf. Let’s analyze some of the components of the
sport, develop an appreciation for the aesthetic, and take an analytic approach
to the game. Said game is played
outdoors, always, and the molding hands of Mother Nature herself shape the
experience. The recurrent iterations of
nature mark the first dynamic aspect of the structure of the game that lends
itself so beautifully to those who appreciate God’s green earth. Basking in the sun is a creature comfort, and
none more comfortable then the warm embrace on the back of your neck as you
watch your playing partner drive the little white sphere into the blue
expanse. This is only rivaled by the
blood tingling exhilaration of staring into the infinite expanse of blue sky as
you pose after a perfect demonstration of your golf swing unfurled. Sometimes you are challenged by the crippling
humidity and struggle to maintain your mental composure during the grueling
marathon of eighteen holes. Other times
you are forced to squint through the shifted tracers of rain as they fall
across your visual landscape.
Appreciating the sport of golf
begins with the humble acceptance of your relevance in nature, and the
triumphant feeling comes from knowing that you can be a formidable warrior who
used the elements as tools rather then distractions. Be weary before you approach that first tee
box; it is not a right to embark on the journey through the next 18 holes, it
is a privilege, one that demands a deep understanding of oneself and ones
capabilities. Do not blame the elements
or the game for your lack of appreciation.
Remember, like an ignorant child blameless in his frustration yet
unwarranted in his criticism, “This doesn’t make sense!” It, golf, makes sense;
it, those elusive two letters are accessible only to those who search it out
gracefully.
Up to fourteen tools in the bag for
which to capitalize. 14 clubs x 3
discrete different shot shapes x 3 discrete different trajectories and the infinite
range between. These are the options for
which your wrist flicks can create a round.
Your scorecard is a mere tally.
Every shot, hole, front 9, full round are an opportunity. This all proves daunting; golf should not be
digested in its totality. Rather each
morsel of experiences should constitute a part and the whole, pun intended. The skilled performer can hone in on each
swing. Only after rapidly calculating
the appropriate shot needed. Each
instantiation requires full and unwavering attention. Upon completion, a quick pro forma invoice
begs to be submitted for processing; were my lines good, how was my weight, did
I keep my head down? I suggest that
these line items are what is keeping you from transcending from benevolent pot
bellied participant to weekend warrior acclaim.
First, pass me a beer.
The crack of the can [always use
cans, after a few too many if you drop them they cannot litter the golf course
with reflecting shards of which are Rubber Tire’s most antagonistic of enemies]
signifies this as a time of fun. Balance
is the answer to any moral quandary; beer is the answer to any beverage
imposition on the golf course. Where
vices are welcomed, communally indulged, where sport meets recreation, the golf
course is where you come to enjoy uninterrupted hours of enjoyable experience.
Is it better to have 1,xxx,xxx
songs to flip through on your ipod, is a newspaper just a tangible annoyance
for who’s value can be provided seamlessly on your ipad? Sure.
Did ‘song ADD’ exist before ipods?
Do you have trouble finishing on article on the computer due to the omniscient
distractions? Golf forces busy
individuals to hunker down and enjoy the marathon of social interaction. Can you enjoy the sport on your own, yes, but
you are never alone. You are willfully
detached from the nearest router and with this come great responsibility. You and your playing partners imitate
intimacy in a unique relationship. If
they are strangers, they can be tools for self-reflexivity, if they are your
best friends they can be cheerleaders, hecklers, coaches, psychoanalysts,
glorified cup holders and everything in between.
The narrative of a round of golf is
not dissimilar to life. You must know
when to accept the current predicament, trust the future blight is less bleak, determine
which of the medicines are more tasteful medicine, grimace, gulp, and go. The peaks of elation, the valleys of
frustration; life is not a game – but golf most definitely is. No one swings the exact same way. No one plays the exact same shot, ever. These analogies I’ll allow you to fill in.
I realize I’ve been writing about
golf for too long, plus my pitching wedge has been staring at for the last 15
minutes.