There are some things in life that you admit you will never do. As spring starts and other people around the area bring up their golf clubs from the basement with a mix of anticipation and joy, I will now use this space to admit something. I will never be a golfer.
I am not against golf. I’m not someone who dis- misses the sport out of hand. In fact, I would the- oretically enjoy golf. I like being outdoors, I like hitting things, I can even sort of putt sometimes. I have enjoyed golf-based video games, most of them starring Mario, and the people at local golf courses seem quite nice.
But I just can’t golf.
People have tried. People have demonstrated the proper stance that I can’t seem to actually get into, they’ve demonstrated the right way to swing which I’ve never successfully done, and they’ve tried their hard- est to teach me how golfing works. And then I try it, everything goes wrong and the ball bounces off in a direction where the hole isn’t. Eventually, somewhere long before the end of ninth hole, my golfing companions admit I’m a lost cause.
Which is a shame, because golf seems nice.
I’m not talking about pro-level competition, but it does seem like a good way to get outside and have a good time with some friends. There’s a bit of competi- tion, a bit of friendly rivalry, and a bit of nice summer air. Also, on the right night, a man with a cart full of beer drives by and gives you some.
Usually when I think about things I’ll never do, it’s because I dislikethem. I’ll never drink coffee, because I hate the taste of coffee. I’ll never smoke marijuana, because the smell makes me nauseous. I’ll never do this or that because I dislike them. That’s true for a lot of people, you choose not to do things because you don’t like doing them. And while there are people who sometimes don’t accept that, it’s really just a case of knowing what you don’t enjoy.
It’s also not something that I’ll just never have the budget to participate in. It is unlikely that I will drive a Ferrari, even though I’d quite like todrive a Ferrari, because I don’t have Ferrari money, or know someone who does.
The thing with golf is that it’s different because I probably would like it if it was at all possible for me to golf without mak- ing a massive fool of myself. It seems fun. While I don’t have the money to get extremely into it, since golf fans can go wild buying clubs made out of sports cars and some kind of fancy shoes you can’t wear to
the mall, I’m sure I could still have a good time with garage sale clubs and a plucky, can-do attitude.
But I can’t, because I can’t golf. I try it, and every inch of my body conspires to take what- ever the opposite of a good shot is. And so my ball dribbles off into a lake, going so slowly the ducks aren’t even per- turbed. And I have to admit, both to myself, and to everyone else, I’ll never golf.