Golf Fore the Good

What is it about golfers and our addiction? As with many addicts, the holiday season can be rough. Here we are, just two weeks before Christmas. Instead of heading to the malls or attending holiday events full of Christmas spirit we are more interested in watching the weather channel and wondering if it will be nice enough over the weekend to play a few holes.

“Forget the Christmas Stroll” said my friend, albeit with varied and a few less letters in that first word.

Now that’s a true friend: someone who supports me during my less than enthusiastic holiday mood. After all, isn’t that what the season is all about - caring about others? It’s nice to know my friend would not want me out walking the fairways alone during the holiday season. How generous, to sacrifice his own time of hanging a gazillion decorations, helping with the garden club’s craft fair and wrapping gifts to spend a few hours out on the course bolstering my mood!

We are constantly cautioned against the complications caused by the pressures of the season. Too much holiday indulgence leads to weight gain; too much pressure to create a perfect holiday can cause depression; Christmas has become too commercialized. Solution to all of the aforementioned: go golfing. It’s good exercise, relieves stress (sometimes) and, unless your Christmas list includes a bag full of new golf equipment, surely is non-commercial. You can even hum a carol or two while you play to get in the spirit.

I used to play golf with a woman who combined her holiday decorating chores with our golf. By the end of a December round her golf bag would be bursting with swags of evergreens and holly boughs, snagged from here and there about the course. Now that is truly a good example of handling one’s priorities in a busy season.

Just this week, at one of our most frequented establishments the proprietor queried my friends and me “are you coming to the Christmas party next Friday?” Keep in mind that we spend nearly every single Friday evening at this spot, and have for the last decade or so. It seemed like a silly question. Unless, of course, there was a hidden meaning in the invitation as in “you will be coming dressed in your holiday finest, won’t you?” I’m hoping my reply of “I’ll be there with bells on” will be enough to get me in the door. Red just isn’t my color.