The following was written by a former golfer who no longer can play, reflecting on his years in golf and would like the rest of us to think about how we approach the game.
I can’t play golf anymore. I tried to swing the club the other day, but my
body wouldn’t cooperate. The best I can do now is sometimes take walks on
the course, but my eyes aren’t as good as they used to be so I don’t see
much. I have a lot of time to sit and think now, and I often think about the
game.*
*It was my favorite game. I played most of my adult life. Thousands of
rounds, thousands of hours practicing. As I look back, I guess I had a
pretty good time at it. But now that I can’t do it anymore, I wish I had
done it differently*
*It’s funny, but with all the time I spent playing golf, I never thought I
was a real golfer. I never felt good enough to really belong out there. It
doesn’t make much sense, since I scored better than average and a lot of
people envied my game, but I always felt that if I was just a little better
or a little more consistent, then I’d feel really good. I’d be satisfied
with my game. But I never was. It was always “One of these days I’ll get it”
or “One day I’ll get there” and now here I am. I can’t play anymore, and I
never got there.*
*I met a whole lot of different people out on the course. That was one of
the best things about the game. But aside from my regular partners and a few
others, I don’t feel like I got to know many of those people very well. I
know they didn’t really get to know me. At times they probably didn’t want
to. I was pretty occupied with my own game most of the time and didn’t have
much time for anyone else, especially if I wasn’t playing well.*
*So why am I writing you this letter anyway, just to complain? Not really.
Like I said, my golfing experience wasn’t that bad. But it could have been
so much better, and I see that so clearly now. I want to tell you, so you
can learn from it. I don’t want you getting to my age and feeling the same
regrets I’m feeling now.*
*I wish, I wish. Sad words, I suppose, but necessary. I wish I could have
played the game with more joy, more freedom. I was always so concerned with
“doing it right” that I never seemed to be able to enjoy just doing it at
all. I was so hard on myself, never satisfied, always expecting more. Who
was I trying to please? Certainly not myself, because I never did. If there
were people whose opinions were important enough to justify all that
self-criticism, I never met them.*
*I wish I could have been a better playing partner. I wasn’t a bad person to
be with, really, but I wish I had been friendlier and gotten to know people
better. I wish I could have laughed and joked more and given people more
encouragement. I probably would have gotten more from them, and I would have
loved that. There were a few bad apples over the years, but most of the
people I played with were friendly, polite, and sincere. They really just
wanted to make friends and have a good time. I wish I could have made more
friends and had a better time.*
*I’m inside a lot now and I miss the beauty of the outdoors. For years when
I was golfing I walked through some of the most beautiful places on earth,
and yet I don’t feel I really saw them. Beautiful landscapes, trees,
flowers, animals, the sky, and the ocean – how could I have missed so much?
What was I thinking of that was so important – my grip, my back swing, my
stance? Sure, I needed to think about those sometimes, but so often as to be
oblivious to so much beauty? And all the green – the wonderful, deep, lush
color of green! My eyes are starting to fail. I wish I had used them better
so I would have more vivid memories now.*
*So what is it that I’m trying to say? I played the type of game that I
thought I should play, to please the type of people that I thought I should
please. But it didn’t work. My game was mine to play, but I gave it away.
*It’s a wonderful game. Please, don’t lose yours. Play a game that you want
to play. Play a game that gives you joy and satisfaction and makes you a
better person to your family and friends. Play with enthusiasm, play with
freedom. Appreciate the beauty of nature and the people around you. Realize
how lucky you are to be able to do it. All too soon your time will be up,
and you won’t be able to play anymore. Play a game that enriches your life.*
*Best wishes . . . don’t waste a minute of golf . . . someday it will be
gone!*