The other night a friend asked me:

„What is it that fascinates you about this weird game of golf?“
I couldn’t come up with a good answer on the spot, so I put him off:
„I’ll think about it. Ask me again tomorrow.“

The next morning I drove to the golf course very early to go looking for the fascination of this „weird“ game. A promise is a promise.

On the way to the course, anticipation started creeping up inside me. Suddenly a bit of that inexplicable fascination was already there, a kind of inner buzz. I drove up the narrow road to the parking lot. The anticipation grew. The two holes to the left and right of the road were a lush green. Apparently no one was there yet. I like playing alone sometimes.

Up in the lot I strapped my bag to the pushcart and walked to the tee box on hole 1.

The first rays of sun were creeping over the treetops in the east as I stood on the tee. The rising morning sun had bathed the wide Innerste Valley in the background in a wondrous light. Our own golf-course cuckoo was calling over to me at regular intervals. On the nearby field edge a lark was trilling, and high in the sky a harrier was circling. Beyond the path that crosses hole 1, a vixen was playing with her kits.

I felt at one with nature. And I had the next answer to the question of fascination.

But I didn’t just want to watch nature, I wanted to play golf. Carefully I placed the little white ball on a tee and got ready for my first drive.

The vixen had spotted me and, just to be safe, disappeared into the brush with her young. You can’t trust my shots, after all.

But my drive was blessed. The ball flew right over the little path and landed in the middle of the fairway. What a start! Pride and satisfaction surged through me. Maybe I should risk a bold second shot over the trees and place it right next to the pin. And then sink an eagle with one putt — after all, it’s a par 5. Maybe the ball would even roll straight into the hole for an albatross!

I could hardly wait for the second shot. Unfortunately my big backswing tore a deep divot out of the turf, and the ball hopped maybe ten feet forward.

I stayed calm. After all, I was alone out there. But my inner voice was cursing loudly, cursing with words any decent person would be ashamed of.

Well, then I’ll just get it on the green with the third shot, I told myself defiantly.

Unfortunately, that attempt also fell far short of my expectations. Annoyance crept up. The fourth shot landed in the rough, the fifth in the bunker. Annoyance had turned into anger.

I’ve always thought golf is no game for the manic-depressive. Or maybe it is exactly the game for them. Either way, I don’t know any other sport where being on top of the world and being down in the dumps are so close together.

Be that as it may, my shot out of the bunker failed completely, and to my horror the ball flew past the flag far beyond the green. Then I couldn’t find it anymore and briefly considered whether I should just stick to chess from now on.

But I couldn’t stop. That little white ball had crept inside me and taken hold of my soul.

The rest of the holes were a roller coaster, too. I got to know the underbrush and the stinging nettles in the tall grass beside the fairway. Then again I pulled off a few shots that actually looked like golf and made my heart leap: I was playing a fascinating game against myself.

I had finished my front nine and ran into some friends at the clubhouse who were just about to start. They teased me for playing so early — and alone, at that. They love the camaraderie, the conversations during the round, the cold drink together afterward. In golf you don’t have opponents, you only have fellow players. That creates a relaxed atmosphere, especially among us seniors, not least because the great advantage of getting older is that you don’t have to prove anything to anyone anymore.

And suddenly I understood what is most fascinating about this game: that everyone can find in it whatever they personally find meaningful — long walks through beautiful nature, the ebb and flow of pure joy, concentration and relaxation at the same time, conversation and companionship, competition and festive events.

And I realized you can’t explain any of that to an outsider.

The next day I answered my friend’s question about what fascinates you about this weird game of golf:

„Find out for yourself!“

©Dr.Jörg Hellmann
https://www.golfsatire.de/
Jörg Hellmann
Kleine Geschichten über Golf S.5-9
www.hildesheimer-literaturverlag.de
www.golfsatire.de