Days like these
Where the rules are made up and the points don't matter...
A round, or at least the prospect of a tee time, can make a lot of things seem OK in the mind of the would-be golfer.
From alarms at ungodly hours, to lonely drives to faraway places, and then the price of a pie, a pint and a piece of apparel on arrival, we become experts at mental gymnastics when it comes to justifying all manner of ‘inconveniences’ for cherished time at the course.
So, due to one’s forced office closure, another’s report writing day, and a third’s willingness to take leave to be part of it, our group was determined to plough ahead with a recent tee time at St Andrews Beach.
After all, we’d booked it a week out and kept an eye on the forecast ever since.
When Tim picked me up in the morning with good news and bad (the good being a strong flat white, the bad that forecast winds had been upgraded to ‘damaging’), the mental gymnastics began.
We justified it as a chance to play “proper links golf,” as if we have the skillset to do anything of the sort, before optimistically observing that there was no rain forecast – at least until the afternoon.
On arrival at the course, the pros in the shop offered knowing glances and a generous chuckle that yes, it would indeed be tough out there today, before asking with half a smile if we’d like to enter the comp.
The other two did.
Hitting a couple of putts and even a few shots in the net and it quickly became apparent that today’s round would be a comical one. A challenge even to finish a swing, making a shot could be close to impossible.
This really felt like the start of Victoria’s golfing winter.
Roaring winds and thundering waves from nearby Gunnamatta beach and Bass Strait are never far from mind when golfing down here, but this day, things went to another level as bags got blown over, balls once at rest got in motion again, and a topped hybrid ran out further than a well-struck drive.
All the while the mercury stayed lower than the stingers we desperately needed to hit.
Objectively, golfing in these conditions is absurd. We all knew that before a tee was in the ground on the first. But dispassionate decision making doesn’t tend to come easy to the golfer. Much less one who has taken annual leave to be there.
Maybe it was merely another thought exercise, but it struck me that golf in these conditions is actually a great reset button.
On days like these – even for the two who did enter the comp – there are no expectations. No stakes (save for those that mark OB, you’re more likely to find them), and no pressure.
In recent times, I have annoyed lots of my golfing buddies in my refusal to gain and maintain a handicap. Some argue it’s not proper golf, others are (justifiably) frustrated that it means I can’t be their partner in a comp, but on days like these I feel justified.
Without stressing over score or a potential shift in handicap, we were able to laugh our way through a frozen four hours.
If you’re on the fence about playing a winter round this year, get after it. Find a group of mates and leave your ego in the boot of the car.
After all, on days like these It can feel like the rules are made up and the points don’t matter...
Whose shot is it, anyway?