That Golfing Itch...

I love golf.
Ask my wife.
She knows I love golf. This might be why she tends to dislike golf. This may also explain that when I pine to play golf she tends to dislike me.

To date, I’ve only met one other person as obsessed with golf as I am. My golfing buddy, who moved to North Carolina, so he can play more golf is the only other dude that I have met that has revealed his ridiculous obsession to me.
I have other golfing buddies, who also love golf, but they have played the game for much longer, in college actually and since they don’t play nearly as often any more, are finding their games in decline and therefore have lost the obsession that possesses me. And I do mean possess.

The strange thing is, I’m not really sure why I’m THIS obsessed with golf. I can’t stop. Some days I wish that I could play everyday, but then I rule out that option because I know that by doing that I would come to grow tired of it. This is how my mind actually works. However, not a day goes by that I don’t consider taking a little time out to work on some aspect of my golf game. Strangely I’ve grown to enjoy this almost as much as playing an actual round.

Here’s another strange thing. I’d say that 30% of the time when I’m going to play a round, I’m not even in the mood to play. It’s as if I’m being drawn to the course by some invisible force. Once there, I’ll enjoy my round, but once I begin to struggle, even just a little bit, I become furious, incorrigible, blistering Incredible Hulk mad. I want to never pick up a club again. There have been times it took everything I had to keep from walking off the course. There have been a very few times I have actually quit my round.
And here’s a funny thing, if I have a fantastic round, my desire to play again wanes, as if the beast has been quelled.

Perhaps that driving obsession is healthy, perhaps not. I’m not sure. I aspire to play in tournaments, but nothing too serious with too much at stake. Too much pressure to fail makes me think that I might resent the game. And yet, that pressure is what I keep looking for, by playing tougher courses and playing in some sort of competition.

I read about golf. I read about instruction, equipment, courses and professionals. I read about epic golf sagas and I read about new swing theories. I even listen to it on my satellite radio. The worst part of all of it is that I know that it’s really boring, but I can’t help it. If there’s a golf store nearby, I have to enter. I know I’m probably not going to buy anything, but I want to be surrounded by golf. I can spend hours in there, accomplishing pretty much nothing. If I drive by a golf course, I have to stare at it, longing to play on it, even though I know full well that its probably private or overpriced, and that I ‘m just asking to smash into the Beamer in front of me.

I guess that there is just something about a well-struck golf shot. Something about a well-played round. Something about a beautiful golf course. It all just saturates my being. I mean for one thing, golf does take place outside, where you’re surrounded my manicured grass. Who doesn’t like a walk in the park? Along with that grass is water and sand. Who doesn’t like the beach? And you’re playing golf; don’t we all like to play?
And yet, I can make it feel so much like work…

I never understood people who would join a country club and just play the same course over and over. I think the best thing about golf is that no course is the same as the other. The process will always be different.

Which leads me to my next strange thought process of golf: how I can metaphysically mirror it to life.

Think about it. No course is the exact same. Is any day the exact same as before? I t might seem like it is, but its not. There’s always a different challenge, a different goal, a different method, a different outcome. In golf its fun to hit big bombs, pull off trick shots and have the newest, shiny equipment. But if you want to be good, really good, you have to pay close attention to the small details. It might feel manly to crack that big drive followed by that stop-on-a-dime approach shot, but if you can’t sink that little four foot putt, you’re back on par with everyone else. To be a great golfer, you have to work at it, and sweat the small stuff, if you don’t, you’ll get frustrated and end up right back where you started.

Too deep?

So, this has been fun. To put down on paper what has been itching my brain when it comes to this silly little game. I still haven’t determined if the obsession is healthy or not, but I know that I might love this game a little too much. The only real comfort I can take is that I know I’m not alone.

Now, I wonder where the closest golf store is…