I recently took an online Golf Psychology Test. Yes, there is such a thing. I got a 48 percent – the worst mark I’ve gotten on any test on any subject in my entire life – but I took the test because I am thinking about taking some private golf lessons.
Of course I failed the test. I didn’t stand a chance in hell! One of the questions asked, “What’s really important to you personally about playing golf?” I clicked, “To win and be competitive.” Another question? “How well do you handle your moods, emotions and feelings out on the course?” I answered “Poor.” My answers pretty much lead to the conclusion that golf is so NOT my sport, but then again, it may be the perfect sport for me, because most sports experts agree that golf is the hardest sport there is.
Despite my test results, I kind of want to take golf lessons, simply because of my competitive spirit. That being said, I also read, “If you are someone with very low patience or think golf is something you can master in a day than this is not the sport for you,” so maybe I should just end this article here, and call it a day?
It’s also said that golf is the greatest game ever played…but why? As one explained, “Maybe because it’s the ultimate test of the body and mind. It’s calming, challenging, rewarding, and frustrating all at the same time. It can beat you up, have you cussing the game, just to fall back in love with it a few minutes later.” Well, THAT sounds like a healthy relationship. #Not.
Listen, when it comes to indoor glow in the dark mini golf, I’m a pro! I’m talking serious talent, and many holes in one, after much practice. Ask my 8-year-old son, who I used to bust out of school, midweek, to go mini-golfing. Yes, I believe ditch days are important, but more importantly, if you visit an indoor mini-golf course on a Wednesday at noon, during the school year, Pre-COVID, there’s was a 99 percent chance that no one else would be playing. Which was perfect! You don’t want to be around me, mini-golfing. If I missed a putt, I would curse as if I had just stubbed my toe really badly.
If I couldn’t hit the damn golf ball around the fake mountain, I would slam my fluorescent pink putter on the walls. More often than not, I’d scream, “What the fuck is wrong with me today!?”
What can I say? I’m a terrible loser. Simply terrible! I’m the type of loser who will say, “We need to play again,” and I’ll say this until I win. Likewise, I’m the type of winner that will dance up and down and tease whomever I’m playing against. Yes, even around my kids. As recently as yesterday, after playing Connect Four, a game I usually always win, but this time my 8-year-old beat me at, I threw that game off the kitchen table, and all the pieces went flying.
Am I being a good role model for my son, by having a tantrum when I lose? Maybe not. But my dramatic, pissed-off antics when I didn’t get that damn ball into a hole after a few puts made my son laugh. And since there was never anyone around, I could let my frustration out. No one would be hurt when I hurled my club when I played poorly.
Honestly? I’m so competitive with myself that I would often grab my son out of school for an afternoon to play mini-golf, Pre-COVID, not only to spend one-on-one time with him (a bonus!) but so I could improve my indoor mini putt game, because obviously, you know, priorities! Mama needed to be good at it! Luckily I had my son as an excuse to practice and get better. Now that I’ve tackled indoor mini-golf with a 7-year-old, with a fluorescent golf club and golf ball, I’m ready to promote myself. Maybe.
My Guy is an avid golfer and plays every Saturday and Sunday from the day his golf club opens to when it closes mid-fall. It’s a hobby to him, but sometimes it seems like a borderline obsession.
It’s not that I want to play with him. He, too, is sort of a sore loser. If he doesn’t play well, it does affect his mood. I’ll ask, “How was your day?,” and his answer will be, “I didn’t play so well on the front end and my backswing was terrible but at least I hit a birdie,” or something like that. Frankly, I usually tune out. What does a triple Bogey even mean?
“When starting your journey into the “life-long game” of golf, you might as well start with good habits and not have to worry about breaking bad ones later,” this coach says. Life-long game? That’s not a promise I’m willing to be held accountable for. But there are a handful of reasons, propelling me to golf lessons.
First, I like the idea of not having to be on my phone – there’s a pretty strict rule against phones while playing, which is not to be on your phone. Pretty simple!
Also, many of My Guy’s friends’ wives have asked me numerous times to take lessons with them, and I like them, so it would be a good way of getting to know them better. That being said, I could also get to know them better over a cocktail in a backyard, just saying. Plus, “Golf is a game that can teach you a lot about someone. One of the major things is how they handle themselves on the course. It’s easy to be happy when you’re playing well, but shows character when you keep your cool when things don’t go your way,” it says here. I mean, come on! Everything about my personality screams, “This is not for you.” And, “You do not want these women to see your “character.”
Pre-COVID, the club my guy is a member of had really good hamburgers and french fries, plus a pool, where I could lounge around, listening to music, while he was playing with friends, which basically made me a “golf wife,” a title I actually don’t mind, and maybe I should stick to. Lounging around? Eating french fries by a pool, for four hours? I’m very skilled at doing those things.
My guy wants to set me up with private lessons, not so he can play with me, but because…I have no idea why actually. I think any relationship in sports, where one is way more skilled than an amateur, would lead to a disaster. Like how my dad screamed at me when he taught me to drive, with a stick shift, which I stalled, of course, in the middle of a busy intersection. That caused him to yell, me to cry, and before I knew it, I had my own private driving lessons, and life went back to normal.
It’s Golf 101, I’d think, to not play with your partner, especially with someone like me who, frankly, doesn’t like to be told what to do, especially since my guy isn’t that patient either.
I’d obviously have to find my “inner peace,” but I just don’t DO bored and impatient, and unlike a movie, I don’t think you can just walk out of a round of golf. I also think, “Eighteen holes? Seriously?” That’s like four hours! This decision of whether I even want to learn how to play should not be this complicated, but here I am. But now that my son is taking private golf lessons, and I don’t want to be left out, I think I must at least try.
Plus, I can wrap my head around arguably one of the most famous golfers, Arnold Palmer, who said, “I never rooted against an opponent, but I never rooted for him either.”
That seems like a good balance between golf and my personality.