Thursday, October 13, 2011

Why We Play

Golf. The word itself elicits feelings from deep within. Golf. It’s hardly fun but during every round the game redeems itself. With every round there's that moment; that moment when the ball is struck with perfect precision and flys at your will. You stand like Thor with a hammer club in your hands, your arms raised high, your chest puffed out, and the energy of life itself flows throughout your body. Golf. Not even a game really. More like an elusive state of being. Four hours of torture punctuated by moments of sublime contentedness.

And in those moments -- those moments of clarity where you see the subtle break of the twenty foot putt and know you've made it before even striking the ball – life meets sport and a single Sunday second fulfills you for another week.

That and the beer cart girls.


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