Golf Fore the Good

May Day. As a child, it was a day full of frolicking, fun and baskets of flowers. Historically, it is a day filled with traditions and symbols ranging from May poles, to May queens to May flowers – and even cows (yes, cows…). No where could I find reference to May Day traditions with regard to golfing but yesterday I hope I started a May Day tradition of my own: playing twenty seven holes of golf. I can think of no better way to celebrate the start of a season full of rebirth and promise then with lots and lots of golf.

My marathon golf day started before dawn, preparing for a road trip for our second Spring Teams match of the season. When we arrived at our destination, a stunningly beautiful private golf course seemingly carved by nature from a garden of stone and rolling hills, the greens sparkled under a heavy coat of frost.

The delay did nothing to dampen our enthusiasm but instead served as time to shake off our stiffness after the hour-plus ride. The amenities of Spring Teams were a lovely diversion. A little social time, a bit of coffee and crumpets, a trip to the driving range and, for those of us who play out of bare bones public courses, time to marvel at the ladies’ locker room that, taken entirely on its own, was larger than our whole clubhouse.

Public golf course members seem to be a dying breed among the state league participants. While my fellow members enjoy a track second to none in its challenging layout, our municipal facilities pale in comparison to the frills and conveniences of the private courses we visit. None the less, we’ve got game, and can hold our own with golfers from any course.

The chill of the early morning quickly warmed into a picture perfect day for golf and off we went, in that time honored Spring Teams tradition, teeing off in twosomes for our match play event.

My fellow competitor and I zipped around in a 3 ½ hour round with not a soul in sight. I found it hard to believe I was only sixty-odd miles from home, so foreign was the landscape of the course to this flatlander’s eyes.

Shaping seven thousand yards of real estate into such a myriad of delightful holes is truly an art form. The very best golf course architects might leave their signature upon the land but do so while recognizing the hand of the original creator. Playing a golf course you’ve never seen before is always an adventure; playing one as creative and well conditioned as this one was a little slice of heaven.

This lovely private course is available for outings. I’d go back in a heartbeat. Check out their website with views of the holes – but keep in mind the photos cannot do it justice.

Mid-day meant luncheon with the ladies of Spring Teams, then we hit the road home. The skies were still brilliantly blue, dotted with puffy white clouds. I hadn’t played nearly enough golf for the day.

But first, duty called at home. The Border Collie waited patiently as I removed my clubs from the back of the SUV then hopped in expectantly for an afternoon excursion. Poor dog, he hates golf season, golf being the only thing that pries me away from his side and vice versa. We made a cursory jaunt through some conservation trails and topped off his day with a quick run at two lone geese at the course. He was shortly, though none too happily, ensconced once more at home, replaced again by my golf clubs in his customary spot in the truck while I high-tailed it back to the course. There was more golf to be played.

My next nine holes were night and day from my first eighteen, far from the trappings of private course-dom and away from the civility of the Ladies of Spring Teams.

Our late afternoon Twilight League is a catch as catch can, fly by the seat of your pants operation. Once a staple of the golf course, after a change of administration we’ve been operating under the radar. We have no sanctioned block tee times, no pre-arranged teams; no dues and no formal organization, and oddly enough, with scratch players to double digit handicappers, no stroking of cards. It’s an A-B-C-D, quick pick the teams and tee off. Anyone can participate and everyone has fun. It’s amateur golf in its most basic form.

We’re an eclectic bunch. Landscapers and laborers arrive in work boots with their clubs in the back of their pickup trucks; an attorney runs to the tee pulling off his button down shirt and tie. We have aging retirees who once played serious competitive golf and are now content with a nine hole league, and youthful enthusiasts who can’t get enough of the game. We’re blue collar, we’re white collar and we all love the game.

One gentleman has played Twilight League for years, if not decades, and was among the many golfers eagerly looking forward to our opening afternoon. The first to arrive, it was clear that a simple nine holes of golf and some competition among friends remains one of his great pleasures in life. Once a single digit handicapper, he is now in his mid-80’s but walks the course strong and straight, if not a little slower than in the past. Any given week his foursome can count on his contribution to the team, with his true and steady down-the-middle stroke, good for a par or more, as well as a ribald joke or two. His enthusiasm is palpable, his company on the course a delight.

As day turned to dusk, my golf game ended far from where it began in terms of decorum; from a state wide organization to organized chaos; from coffee and Danish to pizza and beer; from the propriety of the ladies to the loose camaraderie of the guys. Yet the gist of the game was the same; on a very fine day, on the first of May, there was plenty of golf to be played.

Happy May Day.