That’s why I do it in a cart …
And, of late, alone.
I have golfed for decades and love the camaraderie playing with a friend or three.
I also have been very fond of the teamwork and strategy involved when playing in a scramble — either two-man or a foursome.
But last week marked a first in my golfing days. I went out and played alone.
My solitary situation, however, doesn’t warrant sympathy. To my surprise, I discovered how wonderful playing “solitaire” golf can be.
First, there was the utter quiet and peacefulness that came with it. Just me, my thoughts and nature (along with a few critters and bugs).
There was no pressure, feeling as if anyone was critiquing my game or questioning my club selection.
Of course, one’s hours of play have to be carefully chosen so as to avoid disrupting the flow on the course. But as I played the back nine at Druid Hills late in the afternoon, I had no one behind me to push or rush me.
In front of me, was a foursome, After I caught them a couple of times and they saw me waiting, I made a point to tell them to take their time and please do not rush on my account. I explained I was in no hurry at all and was enjoying the day.
I took the time to stop and smell the roses … or was that pollen? Either way, the views — as we residents know — on the back nine at Druid, are breathtaking and there was more time to soak them in.
When playing alone, one needn’t keep score. But I did and, despite not having the opportunity to play much so far in 2014, I carded a very solid score.
Freedoms abound, hitting an extra shot or two to try to correct some problem in the swing, or in experimenting with different clubs for different situations.
Sure, there was the missed putt that I may try again or a second shot, but I recorded the actual shots taken.
The only downside that I experienced was the two holes in one I shot that day. No one was there to see the aces and to be witness to the exciting moments.
Well, take that back — there were a couple of deer by the 13th that applauded but they refused to attest.
And then there was that approach shot that fell short on the 17th but was safely — or so I thought — on the grass just outside the water hazard. I KNOW I saw that ball stay up! But, alas, when I got to the bridge and went to the spot, it was gone.
“No way!” I thought. Then I saw him. A big bullfrog in the shallowest of water at the pond’s bank. And I asked him if he had seen my ball.
As you can see by the photo on this page, he wouldn’t even look my way when I spoke to him.
I’m guessing my Pro VI was confiscated by this daring amphibian and he had added it to the collection under his lily pad nearby. Can’t prove it … but call it a gut feeling.
Speaking of gut feelings, I reminded ol Kermit that it’s a terrible thing being green and that I do, very much, love frog legs.
At that, he darted below the surface, clouding the waters with debris.
I know it wasn’t nice, but I told him I hope he croaks on my Titleist.
Any way, I digress …
Playing golf with friends and having a beer or two is the recommended and my favorite way to play the sport.
But I was truly surprised at how relaxing the time spent was and how much I enjoyed it.
In fact, I think I will call myself again soon and see if I want to play.