When I got back from golf today Kish asked me, brightly, “How was golf today?” “I sucked, but it was okay,” I replied . . . and it actually was true. I really did suck — horribly, completely, irrefutably, from tee to green and every hazard in between — but it was okay.
When I was younger, I hoped that one day I would be a good golfer who could regularly shoot rounds in the low 80s. Unfortunately, that hasn’t happened, and I realize I have neither the time, nor the talent, nor the temperament to devote the hours of practice needed to make a significant improvement in my game. The difference now is that I’m not going to become infuriated at myself and the Golf Gods about the bad shots and the bad scores. So I suck. So what? I’m reconciled to the fact that I’m always going to be a mediocre player who shoots in the 90s.
That doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy the game. In fact, I’d argue that it’s more enjoyable when you’re not blurting out awful curses at shots into the weeds or bad bounces on the green. And who knows? Maybe some day I’ll decide I do want to try to be a better player — but that day is not today. Today I was awful, but I liked getting the exercise and sharing a few laughs with my golfing companions. I’ll take it.