A few thoughts… On golf, extended sport seasons and being average

By Sandy Compton
Reader Columnist

It’s the end of golf season. Mourning should be over by April. Mariners fans are mourning, as well, though baseball season is not quite over as I write this. Nor will it be when the paper comes out, unless the Dodgers win the Series in five, heaven forbid. I’m rooting for the Blue Jays. As a recovering Giant’s fan, I have no choice. If the Blue Jays do win, the Lunatic-in-Chief won’t invite them to the White House. Even if he did, I doubt they would accept the invitation. The Dodgers might not either. I don’t blame them. 

Baseball and golf seasons are longer than they used to be, as are football and basketball seasons. As far as golf in the Northwest goes, global warming has shortened the period between first and last frosts, which course superintendents monitor closely. We were due a first hard frost this week, which may or may not have happened. My weather app tells me one thing on Monday and another on Tuesday. Sometimes it’s even right. 

Professional sport seasons have been extended by the addition of teams and divisions, wild-card play and the desire of owners, players, networks and venues to make mega bucks. Which they do, with our help. Professional golfers also make mega bucks, and their season has expanded to most of the year. 

I admit to watching sports, including golf; so, in small ways, I contribute to their wealth. But I try not to give them much. They have more than plenty. 

But we were talking about golf. One golf joke — there are many — is that it’s called “golf” because all the other four-letter words were taken. Golf can be described by another four-letter word: hard. It’s hard. It’s frustrating. It’s not even a game. It’s an endeavor. You aren’t playing against the three fellow players keeping comments to themselves (most of the time) as you look for the ball that bounced off the cart path sign. You’re playing against the course and yourself. 

I’m not a golf pro, though I know one who lost his senses and went into the newspaper business. But I suspect that top professionals don’t think as much about the competition as they do the course and how and where their ball lies. Except maybe on Sunday afternoon, particularly if they’re watching from the clubhouse with a one-stroke lead over Rory McElroy, and Rory’s on the 17th tee. 

In a freaking hilarious book by David Feherty, A Nasty Bit of Rough, one of the characters says, “Play the ball as it lies, and the course as you find it.” This seems the first true rule of golf, though the following 600 years have piled 544 pages of sub-rules on top of it. Most of these seem to have resulted from the insatiable curiosity and somewhat anal nature of Homo sapiens and territoriality. 

Example: In year 1670, two Scots bothers golfing in the local pasture — now St. Andrew’s — came upon a curious situation. 

“Aye, Spooner,” Wedgie said, “The ball has landed on the back of a sheep. Whatever shall we do?” 

There’s the curiosity. 

Spooner answers: “We’ll have to make a rule about that.” 

There’s the somewhat anal. And, yes, there’s a rule covering that, just in more formal language. 

Out-of-bounds was probably invented to keep errant golfers out of the baron’s front yard.

Even Scotty Scheffler (the best golfer in the world at this moment), who seldom hits out of bounds, doesn’t know all the nuances of the rules of golf. His caddy probably knows more than he does. What Scotty knows is, “Play the ball as it lies and the course as you find it.” 

Famous golf instructor Harvey Pennick noted that the average golfer, when adhering to that basic rule, seldom takes fewer than 100 strokes to complete 18 holes. Once in a great while, I’m an above-average golfer, which makes my day. I have a goal and desire to become an above-average golfer on a more regular basis, so I do battle with the course and myself as often as I can. Most of the time, though, I’m an average golfer, though being “average” in our day seems to be unacceptable. According to automobile/cellphone/whiskey/beer/E.D. medication/credit card advertising, if you don’t have an extraordinary something going on in your life, you are a loser. 

How funny is that? It’s ridiculous, really. If your life was that exciting, you could burn out before you’re 40. And that would be a short season. Still, there are a number of well-known examples of that.

It’s OK to be average. That’s what I think. You may be good at some things, but you don’t have to be good at everything. Accepting that can take the pressure off, and that in itself can lengthen your own season. Fore!

Sandy Compton’s book Alex’s Restaurant is not about golf, but it is available at Sandpoint Books on Second Avenue; The Ledger office in Thompson Falls, Mont.; and online at bluecreekpress.com or Amazon.