Curve is Flat and Golf is Back

I will never forget the day. It was May 23, 2020 when I heard the news on the radio. I crawled from my shelter into the blinding sunlight, raised my 3-wood high into the air, and shouted, “The courses are open!”. Our governor had finally announced it was safe for grown men and women to venture back into our waving wheat fields and fruited plains to play the game of golf.

The shutdown has been tough on everyone, both avid golfers and people who have a life. There was nowhere to go. All non-essential entities, such as Scotty’s Bagpipe Repair Shop and the House of Representatives, had been shut down. Our world had been reduced to trips to the liquor store, Home Depot, the liquor store, the supermarket, and the liquor store. We had been stripped of our identities and forced to wear a mask in public. Overnight, we had become the Taliban.

Our only contact with the outside world has been through Zoom. Every Sunday, all 30 of my relatives spread across the country would huddle in front of their computer screens and ask the same questions: What are you doing? How are you feeling? Who’s the naked guy in the lower right-hand corner? I don’t know how Anne Frank survived two years hiding in an attic with her relatives. Personally, after two weeks, I would have turned myself in and taken my chances with the Nazis.

When it first hit the news, I didn’t know anything about the coronavirus but was worried it might damage my hard drive. Later when I heard the term “COVID-19”, I thought it was a new line of golf balls by Titleist. Now after five months of constant coverage by every radio and television channel, I can recite its genetic code and find myself lying in bed at night dreaming of Dr. Birx.

My wife and I have been playing it safe. The only way she will go outside would be by an accidental fall from an upstairs window. She has been using her vacuum cleaner to ventilate me. And, in addition to my mask, I have been doubling up and wearing two pairs of boxer shorts in case the virus can be sexually transmitted.

We miss socializing and have become dazed and confused from watching television. Yesterday, I thought I was watching “Godfather II”, but it was just one of Governor Cuomo’s press conferences. And last night, I sat up until 3 o’clock in the morning binge watching “My Pillow” commercials. At this point, I am so starved for human interaction; I would be willing to let Joe Biden grope me.

Most of all, I miss golf. In the beginning of the shutdown, I tried to stay sharp by hitting balls in the back yard. After taking out two basement windows and my neighbor’s slider, I decided it was a bad idea. I need to cure my slice or, as Dr Fauci would say, “flatten the curve.” And there is nothing to watch on the Golf Channel. No matter how many times they replay the 1996 Masters, Greg Norman still blows a six stroke lead.

My first day back to the golf course was exciting. It felt like the end of World War II had just been announced. As I pulled into the parking lot, people were in a celebratory mood. Strangers and friends were laughing, shouting, and sharing stories. One man hugged his golf bag and wept. I felt like a GI liberating Paris, or even better, Paris Hilton.

Standing on the clubhouse steps, it was an emotional and inspiring sight to watch the foursomes heading down the fairway. It was like watching animals being released back into the wild.

I felt a little nervous stepping onto the first tee. My golf bag had been down the basement in the kids’ playroom for the last four months. When I reached in to take out my driver, I pulled out a Star Wars light saber. And when I reached into the side pocket to get some tees, a “My Little Pony” fell out. It’s going to take a while to live this down.

It did feel good to walk in shoes with plastic cleats and to hit something with a club. It was good to hear voices not muffled by a mask, even if it was just the usual cursing and bad jokes. It felt good to stand in the middle of a fairway inhaling the fresh smell of compost wafting from the nearby farmer’s field or from my playing partner who hadn’t showered in two months. And it was comforting for the first time in many weeks to be counting strokes and not deaths. And knowing that more than ever before, we will cherish human interaction, our freedom, our family, our health, and simple pleasures such as playing a round of golf.

Cover Photo by Courtney Cook on Unsplash