The thing about golf is that you can’t easily hide the real you from others when playing it. Whoever you are, you are revealed to others (and ideally yourself) through golf. I’d heard it said years ago that you will find out more about a business associate through one round of golf than a year’s worth of lunches, and it’s true. You can fake it at a lunch. You can fake it at work. You might even be able to fake it at home. But the deep mystery of the game of golf is that it has the extraordinary ability to chase the “real” you out of the hole. And that can be uncomfortable and disconcerting. And that’s why golf is a game changer. It’s transformative, if you allow it to be. It is as powerful a game as man has ever invented. The reasons for that are wrapped in mysteries for which numerous books have been written in search of answers. One shining example can be attributed to Michael Murphy, who in his book “The Kingdom of Golf”, brought this reality beautifully to life when one of the characters makes the following observations to his Scottish friends about the power of the game: “Gowf is a way o’ makin’ a man naked. I would say tha’ nowhere does a man go so naked as he does before a discernin’ eye dressed for gowf. So I ask ye, why does gowf bring out so much in a man, so many sides o’ his personality? Why is the game such an X-ray o’ the soul?” An X-ray to the soul. Ouch. Not always pretty. But always powerful, if you allow it to be. Why is this? Again, trying to answer this simple question has been the subject of many a book and many a man, whether at the 19th hole or when lost in the middle of a round feeling as though you’re being beat into submission, gathering all your inner strength to endure the humiliation and angst that can come upon you. The frustration and anger and disappointment so often associated with a round of golf is something nearly everyone who plays the game can relate to. It doesn’t start out this way. When you first pick up the game, it looks easy enough. It seems innocent enough. Expectations are low, and it’s actually pretty fun and pleasurable, learning to knock the ball down the fairway on your way to putting it in the hole. But stay with it awhile, and things change. You begin to realize that it’s not easy at all. Far from it. Your expectations rise, but your outcomes don’t necessarily keep up. And so it begins…you’re hooked. A relationship that you can’t live with and you can’t live without. A relationship full of hopes and dreams – and disappointment. Somehow, some way, this simple little game morphs into something much more complex – a game of missed opportunities, regrets, and hope – always hope. The number of “what ifs” and “if only’s” reflected upon at the 19th hole are unparalleled by any other game or life experience. It is a game where a fraction of an inch can completely change the outcome. How many times have you been the victim or the benefactor of a bounce that could’ve gone either way? It can happen on nearly every shot in golf, whether you’re a beginner or a pro. One lucky bounce and you’re on the dance floor putting for birdie – one bad bounce and you’re down two strokes. And this has nothing to do with how talented a golfer you are. And it’s fascinating to ponder that in spite of the disillusionment that comes with a game in which outcomes and expectations are so mis-aligned, no one ever really quits playing. They try, but it rarely happens. There’s just too much allure to the game – an innate sense that you’ll get it next time, whether on the next shot or the next round. You know you’ve got it in you. It’s just a matter of finding it and hanging on to it. Whatever “it” is. And that’s the mystery and the magic of the game. This isn’t anything new. It’s a phenomenon – a mystery – as old as golf itself. Over 100 years ago, a gentleman attempted to tackle the complex relationship between man and golf. In his book, “The Mystery of Golf”, written in 1910, Arnold Haultain noted the following about the apparent simplicity of the game to the unknowing: “…to the ordinary man – before he has learned to play – there seems to be nothing extraordinary in golf. On the contrary, golf seems to him a game in which the most ordinary man might excel. You take a very ordinary looking club and you hit a very commonplace looking ball into a very obvious hole – that is “golf” – so the ordinary man, before he has learned to play thinks; and that he shall very soon excel in using that club and in putting that ridiculous ball into that absurd hole seems to him the most reasonable thing in the world.” And he’s right. It’s how it all begins. But from that moment on, the elusive pursuit of mastering something not ever to be tamed is unleashed. A friend said it best: “Golf is a game that you play for a little while…and then, for the rest of your life, it plays you”. As Mr. Haulstain so eloquently put it, “You think a perfect pitch of excellence can be attained. But that pitch of excellence continually recedes the nearer you approach it. Intellectual apprehension outruns physical achievement. Accordingly, the allurement is unceasing, and the fascination endless. Always you can imagine a longer drive, a more accurate approach, a more certain putt; never, or rarely ever, do you effect all three at every hole in the course. But all men – who are golfers – always live in hopes of accomplishing them”. While his English may be old, as well as his observations, there’s nothing that has changed in the last 100 years to negate his insights. Apparently even a century of technology hasn’t reduced the mystery of this wonderful game and the captivating spell it holds over us.
Knowing this doesn’t necessarily ease the internal onslaught of emotions that overcome us in the midst of a round of golf. It may not be that Hollywood moment we’ve all seen when someone throws all of their clubs in the lake or snaps them in half one at a time over their knee. But it happens. For likely every golfer, there has been at least one moment (if not a 100) where we’ve sworn off the game. But we always come back. Why?? One reason, at least, is that fortunately, golf is a game of redemption. It’s one of the most beautiful and addictive aspects of the game, and one of the most mysterious, likely never to be fully grasped. Every shot, every hole and every round represents a new beginning. And life, like golf, brings similar redemptive characteristics. How many impossible days have been washed away by a renewed spirit thanks to a good night’s sleep. Every day, no matter how challenging, starts anew the next morning, representing hope and opportunity and redemption. It’s mysterious, really. And beautiful. Impossible to understand. As it relates to golf, Mr. Haulstain said it perfectly: “The ultimate analysis of the mystery of golf is hopeless – as hopeless as the ultimate analysis of that of metaphysics or that of the feminine heart”.
The same could be said for life. Life is messy. Difficult, if not impossible at times, to understand. Full of promises and potential – and riddled with problems and pain. It begins simply enough. Innocent enough. But give it time, and the inevitable reality called, well – reality, finds its way into our world. Every single time. It’s not a matter of if, but when, we all come to grips with trying to reconcile our romantic vision of life against its harsh reality. This isn’t a bad thing – it’s just embedded in the journey of life much in the same way that it is embedded in golf. And there’s no real changing it, or controlling it, or outwitting it. There’s only learning how to play it. And once you come to grips with that, the game, whether golf or life, begins to transform from frustrating to fun, from futile to fertile.
And that’s the whole point of this project. Life is short, and it’s far richer when lived with a sense of humility and perspective (Jim Collins provides a terrific definition of humility – it’s not thinking of less of yourself, it’s thinking less often of yourself). Eventually, it appears, humility and perspective are persistent bed fellows, relentless in their effort to find their way into our lives, whether we welcome it or not. Often, through adversity, but ultimately, when life’s end is approaching, there’s every likelihood that these well intended aggressors will win in the end. We all have seen the elderly become more comfortable in their own skin in their waning years. They quit trying to be something they’re not. They become vulnerable, open, transparent, authentic. Better late than never, but the sooner the better, and those that only acquaint themselves with this reality late in life will be the first to tell. Drop the act. Get Naked. Vulnerable. And vulnerability, it seems, is at the core of one of the central themes of life – relationships. The pillars upon which relationships are built are trust and love, both direct bi-products of vulnerability. Certainly, with vulnerability comes trust. And as for love. C.S. Lewis, in his book “Four Loves”, connects the dots perfectly: “To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, and irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable”. Vulnerability, it seems, is priceless. It’s also inevitable, especially if you love golf. Golf allows us to experience the extraordinary relationship between love and vulnerability, because it’s a game we love and one that persistently and relentlessly demands vulnerability. And if it is in fact inevitable and not a matter of “if” but “when”, then let’s get on with it. And let’s do so not by self-inflicted pain but rather through proactive pursuits like golf, which provides endless opportunity for insight, awareness, humility, perspective and growth. Go get it – it’s sitting there waiting for you. And it makes the game of golf and life so much more rewarding and fulfilling. Fore!