Golf is a Four-Letter Word

If you’ve played the game, you know what I mean.

“A good walk spoiled”. “There must be less expensive ways to drive yourself crazy”. “Let the self-loathing begin”.

I first swung a hickory stick that had belonged to my Uncle Fred. Dad, who never played the game, bought me some yellow wiffle practice balls and I banged them around the back yard. But without opportunity or family encouragement, baseball, basketball, and touch football occupied my youth.

In college, I took a swing at golf in Phys Ed under the tutelage of “Screaming” Joe Agee. He was the William and Mary golf coach and a well-known no-nonsense basketball ref in the NCAA. With my interest peaked, a fraternity brother who was on Joe's William and Mary golf team, sold me an old set of Spaulding aluminum-shaft clubs and I started banging it around at a local par-three course.

That summer, I spent some time at two local driving ranges. Our favorite was a low-budget dog track on Route 40 whose owner was so cheap that in lieu of a jeep and ball picker rig, he’d send his 11-yr-old son downrange to pick up balls wearing a football helmet and carrying two buckets. This of course while 12 to 14 golfers were still smoking projectiles at 130 mph. “A father’s love is forever imprinted on his child’s heart.” Or in the dimples of a range ball in the middle of his back.

When I started work, I was surrounded by folks who played golf and still without formal instruction, joined as the high handicapper in occasional friendly foursomes and charity tournaments. In search of fewer shanks and embarrassingly short walks to my next shot, I took some lessons from a local pro at Hobbits Glen Golf Club in Columbia, Maryland. My grip, my swing, and my nerves all improved a bit, but the golf course was still not Disney’s happiest place on earth.

I will not bore you with the ups and downs of my lifetime pursuit of the ever-illusive joy of repairing a ball mark on the green. I have now taken a legit series of high tech, high-cost lessons, have gotten high tech clubs, and have a spouse and a family who love (like?) the game. I now find that walking 9 holes a week fits into my life quite nicely.

While I am by no means a “good” golfer, I am a good observer and want to share some highlights and recommendations for you readers. Please feel free to share back at the end of this short blog.

Most frightening moment on a golf course

I had joined my boss and two other co-workers to play in the annual Kodak Tournament at Tantallon Country Club in Fort Washington, Maryland. Invitees were folks from the Defense Department and other federal agencies who bought film product from the Kodak Corporation. We all paid our own entrance fee, so it was legal.

Every small tournament that I had played in before was a “Shotgun Start” meaning that your foursome was assigned to one of 18 holes and that is where you began at the sound of an airhorn from the clubhouse. You mathematicians know that only works if you have a maximum of 72 players. This tournament drew well over 100 contestants, so you were assigned a tee-time, just like the pros.

It dawned on me that the players awaiting their tee time, the employees of Kodak, the staff of Tantallon Country Club, and other random guests would be watching me tee off on the first hole.

Oh my God.

We had a relatively early tee time so I would estimate a gallery of well over 200 eyeballs peering down from the high ground above the tee box. I was so nervous that teeing the ball up and remembering whether I was right-handed or left-handed were my first challenges.

Oh, and (did I mention) they were announcing each golfer’s name and organization over the public address system as you stepped up to hit.

Not only could I make myself the laughingstock of audiovisual Washington, but I could also drag my good family name and my organization through the mud.

I stepped up, teed the ball with shaking hands, and addressed the ball (the old joke, “Hello ball” never crossed my mind). The silence was broken by a “thwack” as my club met the ball. I skyed a pop up that landed an anemic 150 yards down the fairway.

My reaction: total relief. Lesson: if you expect disaster, even a disappointing drive looks beautiful.

Highlight of my life on the links

Again, it was a tournament near Washington, DC that I had entered with one of my staff members and two of his lifelong friends. We were at Montclair Country Club in Prince William County just off Interstate 95. We had driven to the course in rain and fog, but things had cleared up in time for the 9:00am shotgun start.

I believe that the local Lions Club was the sponsor and that one of my mates had some connection. We had birdied our first hole and made decent drives on the second, a par four. As the high handicapper, they let me hit first.

I remember everything about the moment.

Even though we were in the middle of the fairway 150 yards from the pin, it was a thin lie on a slick grass and clay platform. I was still playing with my Spaulding aluminum shafts and chose a 5 iron to cover the distance. My biggest concern was not falling on the slick footing as I came through the ball.

I made good contact and watched as the ball arced, hit the green and took two bounces into the hole. We all jumped around like four-year-olds.

I still remember going to the next tee where a volunteer was waiting with sodas and snacks.

“How are you doing?”, he inquired.

“We’re three under.”

The look on his face was worth the drive to Montclair.

Funniest moment on the course

We all have hundreds to choose from. If you’ve been playing for ten or more years, moments of hilarity keep you coming back.

I was playing at Andrews Airforce Base with my boss Jack McLean and two other guys from the office. Jack was retired military and often got us onto the Andrews links.

I had been slicing the ball off the tee all day long and when I say a slice, it was Jack the Ripper ugly. I had not found a fairway through 7 holes.

On the eighth hole, as I teed my ball, Ralph Collett, our sales director walked up and stood behind me.

Ralph was a burly guy with a gangster face and an acerbic sense of humor. Ralph didn’t like many people at work, but I always thought that he liked me.

“Could I make a suggestion?”, he asked.

“Sure” was my response as our other two mates chuckled in the background.

Ralph took my shoulders and aligned me dead left aiming directly into the woods that bordered the fairway.

“Now go ahead and hit.”

Now there was open laughter behind me. I so wanted to drive the ball deep into those woods just to show Ralph up, but alas, you can guess the rest of the story.

I smacked the most forceful drive of the day, and the ball headed straight for the woods. But after it took a brief peek at the sylvan glade, its left to right spin caught the air, and we could see its flashing turn signal. Turn, turn, turn it went as the laughter (mine included) grew louder.

For the first time in two hours, my tee ball came to rest smack dab in the middle of the fairway. Ralph beamed with satisfaction.

Five Tips for Happiness on the Course

1.   Practice, but not too much

You want to be able to play without complete embarrassment, but never practice to the point where you expect success. Here are the two questions that determine that you have arrived at the sweet spot of golf practice. When you and your partner are approached on the first tee by two strangers who ask “mind if we join?” do you feel panic-stricken? Then you have not practiced enough. When you shank a shot do you feel anger? Then you have practiced too much.

2.   Never, ever give unsolicited advice on the golf course.

If you violate this rule, you will get the title of “my old golf partner” or “my first husband.” Remember. You are not a licensed PGA professional and no matter how much time you have wasted watching YouTube golf videos, your playing partner has enough  swing thoughts crowding the freeway of his/her mind. Trying to correct a swing in the middle of a round of golf has the same rate of success as backing up on the exit ramp of a busy freeway.         

You only had one problem to begin with. Now you have at least  two.

3.   Throwing a golf club is not a good idea.

I have seen them wind up in trees, lakes, and foreheads. As they leave your hand, there is immediate regret. They are the most expensive thing that you can throw on the golf course so why not consider a tee (cheap), your hat (limited distance), or an old golf ball (which might enjoy being in the woods with its two friends that you sent there with your expensive club.)

I repeat, don’t throw clubs. The word will get out that you are That Guy.

4.   When you hit a bad shot remember...it’s your fault.

 Do not blame the green, the quality of the sand, the wind, the fairway, or the relative humidity. As you are blaming all those things, that little thought bubble over your playing partner’s head reads, “No, it’s actually your set up, your poor weight shift, your ugly swing, and your head bob before, during, and after your ugly swing.”

Oh, and please, please do not blame the chirp of a bird or any noise on the golf course. The need for total silence is one of my pet peeves about professional golf.

A professional baseball player is asked to hit a ball moving at 100 miles per hour while 30,000 people scream obscenities, hot dog vendors and beer guys loudly hawk their wares and opposing players yell things about their mother. But if a camera shutter sends a click into the air during his backswing, Tiger Woods is allowed to go absolutely nuts.

5.  Once on the front nine and once on the back nine, say these seven words:

I am so lucky to be here.

If you are healthy enough, prosperous enough, likeable enough, and coordinated enough to play this ancient sport with great friends in beautiful places, stop complaining and enjoy your day.

You are so lucky to be there.