Why Golf?
In the process of getting this blog started, I've often found myself asking myself: "Why golf?"
In an ever-so-connected world with more content available than any one person could consume, why am I putting this out there? Is anyone going to read this? What if people don't like what I have to say? These are all thoughts that rush through my head whenever I put in work towards Address The Ball. My response to this unfounded commentary is, who cares?
In an ever-so-connected world with more content available than any one person could consume, why am I putting this out there? Is anyone going to read this? What if people don't like what I have to say? These are all thoughts that rush through my head whenever I put in work towards Address The Ball. My response to this unfounded commentary is, who cares?
This is a project I've been striving towards for years. It's something I have always wanted to do; I was just unaware that golf would be my jumping-off point. If golf is something that interests you, then I hope I provide some value to you with this blog. If golf does not interest you, I hope that this is something that will change your mind or at least have you view the game differently than you did beforehand.
Some of the most magical moments of my life have taken place on a golf course, and not all of them are directly involving golf. I recall sledding down the hills of Oakley Country Club in Belmont, MA, as a young boy, accompanied by my cousins after Thanksgiving dinner.
I vividly recall my cousin's wedding reception at Scituate Country Club in Scituate, MA. Another event not related to golf, yet golf was still omnipresent in my life. I bring these up because I may not have been born into the country club life, but I was still raised around and by the game of golf.
My formative years are peppered with memories of being at the driving range with my grandfather or playing mini-golf with my father. I would slap plastic golf balls over my grandparents' house as I waited for my parents to finish work for the day, fantasizing about actually being on the course.
I will always remember Tiger's iconic chip-in at the 2005 Master's. I watched this in real time, my 10-year-old arms had every single hair standing up, and I was on the edge of my seat. My grandfather said, "We'll never see another golfer like Tiger," and after all these years, man, was he correct. I spent the next 3 hours trying to "chip-in like Tiger" in the backyard. There was no hole, no green. Just some grass, a stick, and a dream.
The question I posed at the beginning, "Why golf?" does not seem to hold much weight as I reflect on my youth and how long I have been involved with golf. It's almost as if I never chose golf; golf chose me.

Comments
Post a Comment