Taking on Golf

Interesting times. Trump has just imposed his latest tariffs on us - it’s time to figure out how to best handle a bully. Solving Trump is impossible, so I’ve decided to take up golf instead. Turns out, golf can be a bit of a bully too. But it’s my kind of bully, a bully that I may be able to handle.

But golf? Isn’t it terrible? Wasn’t I just making jokes about it, about clown cars, and just maybe the clown in chief? I tell myself that if Trump can play golf, anyone can. Truth be told, I was never very effective at taking on bullies - they did not respond to my eye-rolling.

I’m not going to hire a caddie just yet, but I have hired a golf instructor- we’re going to the driving range soon for a lesson. I frankly never thought it would come to this. I was much happier making jokes - about Trump, about the ridiculous use of water and grass. Golf was very funny for non-golfers. But I have succumbed. Riding around in a cart, half sloshed, suddenly appeals. Gotta get me a skort.

I blame it on windsurfing. I gave it up last July after many years - most of it going fast, the faster the better. I was obsessed. I stuck to it after most other obsessives had moved on to kiting and then winging. I may have been alone, but I was happy!

A sailor friend told me how he had to hold on tight as they were going 7 knots. 7 knots? “Come on!” I told him, “Windsurfers go 20 or 30 knots.” Harumph, eyes rolled. “Why don’t you just slow down?” advised other helpful friends. But no, I told them, “Going slow would be like playing mini-golf - it only works if you are a child, or high.”

So I’m gonna try grown-up golf. I need something to replace my windsurfing habit. I tried pickleball, then squash with my husband, but neither clicked. Now, I’m trying something else. My mom was like me - she got the fast thing, but she loved golf too - it was the last activity she gave up. I assumed there had to be something to it. Also, many of my friends play golf.

The last time I went to a driving range, I was not really interested. I was a child, and failed to connect with the ball. I think there is a ball? The object is to get it into a hole? Now, I’m open-minded. The jokes are done, the eye-rolling is in check. For now.

Maybe I will love golf as much as I loved windsurfing. Maybe, like windsurfing, I’ll never figure it out. I told the instructor I just want to be able to hit the ball. I told her I wanted to see if golf liked me - she said, “Golf will never like you, or anybody else. That’s not what it’s all about.”

I’m in! A sport that hates me and I can never figure out, it’s perfect!! It’s another inexplicable and complicated relationship, just what I need. Just like windsurfing but only with mulligans - multiple mulligans, for me! The people playing with me may want to kill me, but at least I won’t kill myself. That’s the dream. I am gonna saunter around in trousers and a tee - maybe I’ll even invest in a skort! I just gotta figure out what a skort is—is it like culottes? Are culottes back in style?

Seriously. I dream about how I will make my friends wait for me as I try to get the ball into the hole or even onto the green. As I carve more divots and land in yet another sandtrap. I don’t care if my friends make jokes, if they chuckle over my lack of par. They can call me a duffer - I just want to hit the ball! I’m not investing in clubs or a skort, at least not yet. Got to get off the driving range first!

This is how I take on the bullies. By taking up golf. Trump may ruin the world, but golf is a bully I can deal with. I’m in for the torment - I need a complicated relationship, need to be obsessed. It’s either this, or mini-golf.

Instead of taking up a new sport, sign up! And pay if you can. Paying is cheap, but it means a lot to me and Maureen.