Why We Play Golf

Its the age old question, isn't it? Why do we play golf? What is it about the game that attracts us?

Golf is many things to many people... an escape from the rigours of work, a pastime in retirement, a challenge, a chore, a vacation, a source of stress, a way to make a living... etc.



Though we usually focus our attention on the PGA and LPGA, I thought it might be fun to reflect on why WE - the average Joe's and rank amateurs - play the game of golf. I am hoping that some of you will take the time to share your opinions and leave a comment or two... Let us know: what is it about golf that makes you anything from a reluctant fan to an obsessed fanatic?

The idea for this piece came to me by accident, really. I happened to pick up a copy of Flagstick magazine in March. On the cover was a picture of my favorite hole on my favorite golf course. It triggered a great golf memory. More on that later...

Until I joined my club's Men's Night, I don't think I fully appreciated just how frustrating golf can be! Among the things I learned: there is nothing quite like having one of your peers counting on you to make a six- foot putt worth $5.!! Even a multi-millionaire will react as if you've just lost his kid's college fund if you miss a putt and cost him his $2.50 share! Call it pride, insanity, whatever...

Despite all the pressure, I admit that I will often rush to the course as early as mid-morning, even for a 1pm tee time. I will spend an hour warming up on the range, another 20 minutes chipping and working on bunker play and then 30 minutes putting. Then I join the group for a bite in the clubhouse (best golf course food around), before I head out for my round.

From the very first tee, I proceed to drive myself crazy, pull my hair out and struggle to maintain a semblance of sanity. For the next four hours or so, I struggle to remain composed and to get through the round without doing or saying something that will truly embarrass. Even writing this makes me feel ridiculous.

Of course, by the time its all over and the gang is sitting at our regular dinning room table, we are trading stories, listening to Roger's exploits and sorting through everyone's excuses (while Mario tallies up the score and pays out the winnings). Good humour returns quickly and everybody has a few good natured comments, especially as money is passed around according to results. The usual calls of "shark" and "sand-bagger" get tossed around, as everyone questions each other's handicap.

If I admit to being a bit manic about my game, I must admit that I have won much more than I've lost over the years. I also enjoy the camaraderie of the tour and the sense of belonging that comes with membership.

So, is that why I play golf? I thought it might be when I first asked myself the question, but it isn't...

You see, I secretly dream of playing golf just about all the time. If I could pull it off, I would play every day. I am however (sadly) a VERY busy guy, with a number of important commitments. That, and because it snows were I live during the winter, makes it impossible for me to get out to the course more than once or twice every week on average. I spend some time in Florida during the winter, but that isn't as often as I would like. As a result, my game isn't as sharp as it could be... as if it ever is!

I recently pondered the question as I left Myrtle Beach, where I played yet another fabulous golf course poorly, I think I've figured it out why I love golf. It has everything to do with the photo on the cover of Flagstick Magazine.

Gary Player once said that we should consider ourselves fortunate for every hole on every course we get to play. Though I have not always agreed with that sentiment of gratitude, I am starting to understand it better.

Let me get to the point. To understand why I love golf, let your mind's eye follow me back to Myrtle Beach. Specifically, to Caledonia Golf & Fish Club. With its mossy trees, classic layout and lush landscape, it may be one of the most beautiful golf courses of its kind anywhere. I absolutely LOVE that place with all my heart, even if it doesn't always love me back.

And so it was, on a wet October day in 2007, that I played a very poor front nine holes of golf at Caledonia. I was at once in awe of the course and disgusted by my lack of game. Despite driving the ball well, I was struggling badly with my short game and making bogeys and double bogeys with frightening consistency. As I am prone to do, I started getting angry, which usually just makes matters worse.

Feeling a bit overwhelmed, I told my playing partners that I would rather they not keep my score for the back nine. I just wanted to play... I wanted to just take-in the course without the anxiety of trying to score.

The par 5 10th hole was the first I played without counting strokes (or at least without writing my score on paper). I made my first birdie of the day - of course. Incredible! I instantly started enjoying the course more and, despite still having my share of trouble on a few more holes, I would have scored very well on that back nine.

Which brings us to that gorgeous 18th hole!

A solid drive from the back tees will take you to the end of the fairway, leaving 120 to 150 yards (depending where you end up) across water. On any given day, there are hundreds of fish jumping... The view from the fairway takes you back in time, to a simpler era. The green is tucked against the plantation-style clubhouse, as you can see in the picture above.

Anyway, Richard is a regular in our usual Myrtle Beach three or foursome. He has prodigious length off the tee, consistently driving the ball over 300 yards (I've seen him drive a 400+ yard hole uphill during a tournament - its something to behold). On that day, he played a perfect drive with a slight draw to 120 yards. Picture perfect, really. To be safe, I followed up by aiming down the left side of the fairway, away from the water but trying to move the ball left to right. Unfortunately, my ball did not budge - it went straight as an arrow, which put me in the rough on the left of the fairway and 175 yards from the pin.

As mentioned, the second shot is over water to a narrow green, tucked in tightly beside the clubhouse. On that day, a large group of people were on the veranda facing the green that you see in the picture. I guess there was some sort of function being held there. My Dad went first. From the center of the fairway, he hit a solid second shot into the bunker to the left of the green. A smart miss away from the water that surrounds the rest of it. I was up next, but I was having trouble getting the correct yardage, so I yelled to Richard that he could go ahead. As I paced the yardage from the marker to my ball, I saw Richard's ball fly toward the pin. I watched as it landed ten or so feet past the pin, then spin back to about four feet. The crowd on the porch erupted in hoots and hollers. It sounded like Sunday at the US Open or a tame version of the Phoenix Open - at least it did to us. Now it was my turn. In the rough at 170-something yards, with a hundred or more onlookers. Good grief!

And here is why, despite all the heartache and frustration, despite being reminded on an almost constant basis that I am a flawed golfer and human being, that I go back time and again to tee it up. I stepped to the ball. Took one practise swing and... hit it. The sound that came off the face of my PING six iron was sweet and pure. I looked up and saw the ball heading perfectly toward the target. High and accurate. As I had asked it to do, the ball moved left to right, just enough. With a thud, the Titleist ProV1x hit the green, bounced once, checked and came to rest less than three feet from the pin. Finally and maybe for the first time that day, the ball did exactly what I had asked of it. With that single stroke of the club, all the bad holes, the frustration of scoring poorly on the front nine... it was all gone. THAT, I remember thinking, is why I play golf.

The crowd on the porch went wild...

___

The Masters - A Tale of Contrasts

Its Sunday morning at the Masters. The air is still cool and fresh at Augusta National Golf Club. Play has yet to start and I'm wandering around the course, taking-in the incredible scenery. No other golf tournament has so much tradition... no other tournament is played on such hallowed ground. Every blade of grass at Augusta National recounts the history of golf. If there is such a place, this is where the ghosts of golf's legends live. You can almost feel the presence of President Eisenhower watching, as the spirit of Bobby Jones floats through the hot Georgia breeze. There is nothing quite like it.


By 11am, there is a spattering of patrons mulling around. A few are busy staking out good spots for their green chairs. Once placed, a green chair will not be moved even if left empty for hours, a phenomenon unique to the Masters. Other patrons are slowly heading toward the 1st or 2nd holes, finding good vantage points to see golf's biggest stars, who will be teeing off in about an hour or so. All in all, things are still very quiet on the course.


As I meander behind the 14th green, looking up toward the clubhouse, I notice Steve Williams walking in my direction. In his trademark Valvoline blue tee-shirt, Tiger's caddie is checking on the course and taking notes in preparation for the final round of the Masters. We are, for a short moment, alone and in close proximity to each other.

When Williams is only a few feet away, I say "good luck to you and Tiger today Steve"...

With that, he brushes by me. He is obviously avoiding eye contact; close enough to shake my hand, but choosing instead to totally ignore me. Like a man raised in a barn, he did not acknowledge me or my words. A simple nod would have sufficed. Had it been someone else, I might have been insulted or surprised, but this is Steve Williams after all. What else would you expect? In my life, I've met heads of State, shared meals with Hall of Fame athletes, and had conversations with some of the top business people of our time. So, a snub from the guy who carries Tiger's golf clubs is certainly not a traumatic experience. I simply shrugged it off and chuckled at the ignorance of the man.


Hours later, on that same 14th hole, I would be standing against the ropes nearly half way down the fairway, at a spot where you can see the players hit their approach shot and also clearly see the green. We had all just cheered a great iron shot by Fred Couples and were waiting for Woods and Choi to arrive, when I noticed Tiger's mother walking behind us. She was surrounded by her usual entourage and clearly looking for a spot from where she could see Tiger play the hole. I signalled to her bodyguard that she was welcome to stand on the rope in front of me. She is a tiny woman and wouldn't block my view, but I knew she wouldn't possibly be able to see Tiger from behind the crowd. At our invitation, she slipped in front of my father and I.

Anyone who watched the Masters on Sunday will recall that Tiger had a rare brain cramp on that 14th green, three-putting from close range. When she saw that, Tiger's mother yelled "Oh! He is pissed off!" The moment was surreal.

My father and I looked at each other in shock and amusement. You just wouldn't expect that kind of language from a tiny older lady... Then, as if she had been entitled, she left without taking a second to thank us for making room for her up front. In fact, just like Steve Williams had done, she basically ignored me and the people around her.

All this to say that life has a way of repaying people for how they treat others. These are not major trespasses, but the way these people act shows a basic lack of upbringing and social grace. As the saying goes, money does not buy class.

Despite the fact that I am not a fan of Steve Williams, I was courteous enough to wish him luck when I came across him. Having been raised to respect people and to yield to a lady whenever appropriate, I was only happy to make room for Tiger's mother. Both Williams and Mrs Woods repaid me with ignorance and bad manners. Surrounded by the likes of these people, is there any wonder that Tiger Woods is such a miserable man who feels a sense of entitlement and that the rules of decency do not apply to him?

In contrast, I followed Phil Mickleson for several holes that afternoon, getting within a few feet of him, especially when he hit that incredible recovery shot from under a tree at the 10th hole. Faced with a potentially devastating miss that could have cost him the lead, Mickleson was gracious with fans, politely asking for the gallery to make room, thanking everyone and acknowledging his fans when he successfully hit the shot. In similar fashion, his caddie "Bones" was polite, saying please and thank you repeatedly. How difficult is that? For most civilized people, it is second nature to be courteous.

The same can be said of the diminutive Mrs Choi, a lovely lady who chatted with us on two occasions, as she followed KJ. She was also gracious and thankful, especially when we let her stand in front of us at the ropes.

In all the years that I've followed the game of golf, I have had the privilege to meet a number of PGA Tour players and caddies. Most are warm, genuine people. Even some of golf's biggest stars will show tremendous grace, respect, patience and warmth. As has been said many times, golf is a gentleman's game.

In contrast, the Tiger Woods clan seems more and more embattled and miserable. Woods appears to me as an island unto himself, surrounded by water but dying of thirst.

As such, aside from the spectacular golf we witnessed and the compelling stories that emerged, this year's Masters tournament will stand as a study in contrasts, between the classy and thankful family man who won the event and the miserable super star who fell short... and who has fallen short in more ways than one for quite a while now.

Thoughts from Augusta

Great leaderboard at Augusta. This is going to be a great two days of golf. I feel fortunate to see it live from the Masters... A few thoughts before the weekend...

1) Whether he means it or not, I think Tiger's new friendly demeanor on the course is a welcome change. If anything, it may actually help his game. Bobby Jones found inner peace, after being a legendary jerk on the course early on. I hope Tiger has changed his stripes for good.

2) I spent a while at John Daly's motorhome today. Picked-up a bunch of Daly gear including his golf bag from Mayakoba... Shagadelic! John and Anna are just good people; warm, friendly and genuine. Daly looks great, frankly... it is just a matter of time until he contends again. You can just tell.

3) Is anyone else thrilled by Freddie Couples playing so well? As fun as the kids are to watch sometimes, I love the veterans! Word is that his back is sore...

4) Lee Westwood has been knocking at the door for a long time. Does he have the finish required to wear a green jacket - only he knows. The Brits are making a bug push these days... even Sandy!

Talk soon!