Looking for a player to fill in a foursome for a last minute road trip, I phoned an old friend with the hope she could make it. She wasn’t available for a match but we chatted briefly and quickly caught up since we’d last spoken. ‘I’m engaged!’ she said excitedly. ‘He’s a THREE!’
I knew immediately that she wasn’t saying “oh, he’s a great guy but, on a scale of one to ten, he’s not very high up in the looks department.” My friend mentioned more than once that the new beau carried a three handicap but, during the entire conversation, I learned neither the fiancé’s name nor what he does for a living. It would be easy to assume he does little else except play golf which would help explain the designation as a three handicapper. Lucky girl, my friend.
Our conversation brought back old memories. When I first met my husband we both spent an extraordinary amount of time on the golf course. In our first tumultuous week of dating we golfed five straight days at five different courses. I can vaguely recall my new love’s description of me at the time as his perfect woman, something to this effect: no baggage, doesn’t want to get married, an entrepreneur, loves golf. Golf has always been central to our relationship and though we’ve both reevaluated some of those top qualifications over the years, it still works for us. Golf is a tie that binds.
Think back to when your parents warned you that you’d be judged by the company you keep. It explains a lot about why golfers hang out together.
I truly wonder how some mixed marriages can survive - golfer and non-golfer. I am all for having separate interests in a relationship but being involved with an avid golfer when you don’t play yourself must be like fighting for your marriage against an illicit lover. You aren’t sure who he/she is with or when they’ll be home. You can also be sure they’re thinking about the next round even when you’re spending what should be quality time alone. And then there is that secret sort of language golfers speak when they’re together - even standing right there listening, a non-golfer can’t be quite sure what they’ve been up to. Hitting the sweet spot, laying up, putting it close inside another… It can all sound a little suspicious to the uninformed.
If you do end up as a non-golfer married to a golf addict, there may be hope. Golf is like any other addiction. There often comes a time when the player hits rock bottom. One minute a golfer is flying high as a kite, the next he’s sunk to the lowest level, pitifully begging for mulligans and extra strokes. When his game hits rock bottom, he’ll swear off the game altogether, leave his clubs untouched and attempt to live a normal life - for a while.
A complete and lasting recovery is rare. The chances are that once the withdrawal is complete - the yips are gone, the shanks have faded from memory, the pushes and pulls have steadied themselves - that your golfer will head back to the course, like a lemming to the sea.
My friend is thrilled to have found a great golfer with whom to share her life, but she is still a bit apprehensive about their compatibility. She was especially concerned that they might not fit in at a high profile Mixed Scotch format tournament. He is, after all, a three and she is in double digits. All things considered, I think their relationship is a pretty good bet. It always pays to marry below your handicap.
