My Story

There are some of us who have been encouraged to play golf since we were young children, playing with the tiniest and most adorable set of child’s golf clubs you’ve ever seen, so as you grow you end up knowing how to use them just as well as you do a fork and knife.

There are the after work country club players, whose definition of after work is early afternoon because they’re rich enough to be members, so they work when they want.

There’s the Saturday afternoon, get away from the wife and drink beer afterwards municipal players who sometimes rent clubs, but probably just picked up a set from a buddy getting rid of old ones or pieced together a thrift shop set that would get run out of the local country club.

There’s the 90 year old couple, both who celebrated their fiftieth anniversaries with their respective spouses, said spouses both years gone now yet somehow these two found each other a decade ago and started on a new venture in life in the slow season at the local country clubs because it keeps them young.


There are the people who have traveled and found themselves at a resort with a lovely course attached and a lazy Tuesday morning when the golf pros figured they’d share a few pearls of wisdom with someone who’s only ever played mini putt golf, and the pearls of wisdom that eventually turned into a six hour round of golf, where even Stableford scoring left the pros shaking their sunburned faces and questioning their life choices while the traveler now has acquired the golf bug, despite the roughness of their maiden voyage into game.

Whoever they are, and however they got to be players really isn’t the key point. Maybe I’m one of those, or maybe I’ve had my chance at many of them. Maybe someday I’ll be all of them.

The key point is that we’re out there playing; we’re getting exercise and fresh air. We’re staying sharp and we’re staying fit. We are the golfers who all started somewhere. We may have thrown our clubs down in frustration, or gotten our carts stuck in a marsh trying to retrieve a lucky ball. We may have placed last, seven years in a row at the local ABCD scramble fundraiser.

We may have gotten our first hole in one and enjoyed drinks with everyone in the bar in celebration. We may be our local club champs. We may always be the guest at an invitational, and we may always grab the brochure on becoming a member, even though there are three of them from past years already lying in old paperwork at home.

Regardless of any of that, the best part of it is that we have the opportunity to see beauty from a perspective that non golfers never get to see. We find ourselves in the quiet and pristine areas of our hometowns and while we are abroad. We find the beauty in the world around us with the swing of a club and the sight of a ball disappearing into the distance.