In Defense of Golf

The Professional Golfers Association has sold itself to the wretched Saudis, which leads some to issue blanket denunciations of the entire universe of golf, as radicals have been doing for a long time. I’m obliged to differ.

I stopped playing in the 90s. My wife had gotten me a lesson for a birthday present with a pro who took a movie of your swing. (That was a big thing then.) When I saw myself in the recording, I was so horrified I stopped playing.

I was never very good. I’m sure I never broke 80, or 40 for nine holes. Good enough to be on my high school golf team (#2 in a team of four). I could hit the ball a good distance, but there is much more to the game than that.

As a kid I earned nice money caddying at the North Jersey Country Club. There were two clubs in the area. Mine was populated by Italian wise guys from Paterson. There was another club for Jews where I have never been. A benefit of caddying was that we could bring friends and play the course for free every Monday, “Caddies’ Day.”

Like the membership, the caddies included tough Italian kids from Paterson. Their leader was a guy named Mario Acoustinelli. He used to play while smoking a cigarette. I played him at least once. He was a hustler with a temper, but when he lost he paid up.

I followed the professional game and went to a tournament once in Montclair, NJ. I remember seeing Arnold Palmer, Doug Sanders, and Billy Casper tee off. Palmer was a show-off. Sanders had a fucked up swing that seemed to work. Casper drove almost immediately after setting up beside the tee. Most golfers first do a little waggle after a practice swing. Outside the clubhouse I saw Jack Nicklaus in a cart with his high, squeaky voice.

The pro game was nearly all-white for a long time. A black golfer was a novelty, though there were a few, though nobody like Tiger. Pros were always reactionary, Palmer and Nicklaus especially, their humble origins notwithstanding.

I used to watch tournaments on TV, and when Tiger got into it, my wife got interested too. She took to a pro named Fuzzy Zoeller because of the name, I guess, and was disenchanted when he made a racist remark about Woods.

There was another world of golf — the public courses. That’s where I played. It might cost twenty bucks for a round. Now it’s more like sixty, not counting extras like carts. The players were working class guys. Tiger brought POC into the game. D.C. and majority-minority Prince George County in Maryland had public courses where I would find African-Americans. The courses were run-down but playable. The snack bars had good eats.

I took my daughter to the driving range, after getting her a couple of tiny clubs. She used to swing like she was chopping wood, but it was easy to impress her with an ordinary shot. Fun. She never took to the game. Soccer was her thing.

I’m aware that golf courses use ungodly amounts of land and water that might go to better purposes. But one also might consider the ageism factor. For many past middle age, there aren’t a lot of athletic alternatives. Working out is boring. Tennis or excuse me “pickleball” have to be rough on the knees. Shuffleboard? Forget it. Women play too, by the way. Courses have been accommodating them forever. You can have mixed foursomes.

Another nice thing is the course etiquette. There is hustling, but cheating is a huge no-no. And unlike in other sports, when watching a tournament, you want everybody to do well. You don’t root against players. You root for your favorites to make great shots.

You can get the basic equipment for a couple of hundred dollars. The cost of playing does not seem great compared to other pursuits. Ammo for hunting or target ranges costs. So does the endless amount of gear for fishing.

I’ve been thinking of going back to it. I got rid of my clubs when I moved, years ago. I note that the sets these days include “fairway woods” instead of the long irons (2 through 4). Then there are the gadgets. All of these offend a purist like me. My view is that part of the game is mastering the 2-iron. (I actually had a 1-iron and still remember my greatest 1-iron shot, really my only one.)

Thing about golf, you might stink but you also might make a couple of great shots in a round, possibly out of luck. Those shots bring you back for another try. I still remember my best round, on a Caddies’ Day, in a light drizzle.

Trump cheats like crazy, but for his age and physical condition, he is also a good golfer. He ought to be, since he plays all the time and has access to the best pro instructors. I recall a story about him driving his cart onto a green, which in my view merited execution.

The Saudi deal could kill the game. Without the public side, interest in the pro tournaments, and the money they bring in, could wither. Opportunities to play if you’re not in a country club (where dues and initiation fees run in the thousands) seem to be disappearing. (Those TopGolf places are revolting; not for serious players.) I feel that will be unfortunate.