Golf is one of those activities that can absolutely bedevil an otherwise passive soul like me into a state of complete irrationality. In the almost 50 years I have been playing the game, the number of times I have cursed the forces of nature that cause a well-struck shot to somehow go astray of my intended target into a rock pile or an impenetrable forest or a pond or a sand trap must be in the tens of thousands.
My wife and I just returned from a week in Palm Desert, California, which is where people like us go to play golf. Some of the most highly rated and best designed and maintained courses in the country can be found there, and over the course of our seven days in the town, we played several of them.
For my part, the rounds were a mix of extreme frustration and occasional exultation. It’s the latter feeling that is the addictive part of the game. In terms of what normal human beings can experience in the field of athletic endeavors, hitting a perfect golf shot is probably as close to feeling superhuman as one can get.
In other words, you don’t have to have great strength (as in weight lifting) or dexterity (as in gymnastics) or balance (as in skating or skiing) or speed (as in track or football) or be very tall (as in basketball) or very short (as in horse racing); you just have to make the head of your golf club strike the little white ball lying motionless on the ground at just the right angle and with just the right swing to make it soar into the sky on a path that will cause it to land in the general vicinity of your target.
And if you are an exceedingly mediocre (to be charitable) golfer like me, that can actually happen as often as a dozen or so times a round. (Never mind that another 70 shots will lead to the cursing I mentioned earlier or that the most beautiful of shots from the tee or fairway can be negated by a miserable excuse for a putt once on the green.)
It’s that sense of perfection that comes from hitting those dozen glorious shots that is addictive and that keeps folks like me coming back time after time. I suppose it’s very similar to the feeling of euphoria that those addicted to narcotics say they experience (before the negative aspects of the drugs kick in).
But there is another reason that golf is such an enjoyable way to spend five hours of a day, and this benefit may be unique to the game. You get to meet people on a golf course that you would probably otherwise never meet, and, because you are with them for a full 18-hole round, you get to know more about them than you would otherwise ever get to know. And, almost without exception, they are all exceedingly nice, and in many instances, interesting people.
Think about it. In what other endeavor or activity are you able to meet a complete stranger, spend five hours with him or her, and fully enjoy the encounter?
A word here, for those unfamiliar with the protocols of the game, will help to explain the way these encounters occur. Golf course managers set their schedules for groups of four (foursomes) to maximize the use of the course. Some players book their tee times with four players in their group, but often a single player or a couple will arrive at the course with the understanding that they will be paired with two or three others to fill out a foursome. That foursome will then play the full 18-hole round together, and, as they do, because much of a round consists of standing together and waiting to hit a shot, they will chat and get to know each other.
Now here’s the neat part: Everyone who plays golf knows foursomes are preferred and therefore knows that meeting and spending the afternoon with otherwise complete strangers is a likely occurrence. And, because everyone in the foursome wants the experience to be enjoyable, everyone is cordial and gracious and supportive of the others in the group.
I have had some of my happiest moments on a golf course watching a hitherto complete stranger sink an especially long putt for a birdie. I can still remember an elderly gentleman who was a wonderful playing partner who did just that (from 75 feet) many years ago. I was happier than he was, and after our round we shook hands and parted, never to see each other again, but both the richer for having spent the afternoon with each other on the course.
This past week, my wife and I met and played rounds with Gary, who is a salesman who travels internationally; T.J., who is the father of one- and three-year olds, who was playing with his father-in-law, Steve (who lives in the tiny town of Templeton, CA); another Steve, who is a commercial banker who also is the father of quadruplets (all boys); Todd, who is only 30, but owns a surfing business in San Diego and runs a charitable golf tournament; and Paul, who kindly offered the excuse for me that it was nearing cocktail hour when my game fell apart late in a round.
For me, meeting and getting to know each of these men was a pleasure and made the experience of the round of golf we played together all the more enjoyable.
We go through the day-to-day existence of our lives without often thinking of those we pass along the way, unless, because of our work, we are required to interact with them, or because they are our friends, we want to do so.
But to just enjoy the company of folks whom you’d otherwise never meet and to get to know just a little bit about what makes them special is almost impossible to imagine, let alone effectuate, unless you are paired with them for a round of golf.