The Meaning of Golf
by Chip Monk
I was recently immersed in a spiritual quest for the meaning of golf. A personal hadj for a lower handicap and golf enlightenment. This sojourn to cleanse my game of impure swing thoughts, day dreams of cart girls, and half wedge shanks, took place at Olympic's Lake Course. This, the Mount Parnassus of golf courses, was the site of my clarity.
My journey of less strokes began like it must, with inner calm and an all star foursome. Randy G, Blue Moon Retainer, and Fred "Where have you been" Chiappe made up the group. It was a Zen meets Poplar Creek, Bonnie meets Clyde golf awakening. We played the round with an intense casualness rivaled only by Don Delbon's cool and Geoff Kuchlenz's hair. It was Nirvana.
As I trekked up the hill to the clubhouse it hit me. I was no where closer to the meaning of golf then when I started. What was this game all about? Was golf about having fun, gambling or maybe the struggle? I was flummoxed. What was I missing?
Golf should be fun and perfection unobtainable, right? I pondered this long and hard. My reverie was interrupted only by the waiter handing me a rather sizeable bar tab. I overtipped, signed Keith Gonsalves' name, I am not a member, and looked down upon the 18th green. There is was, written in the sand, the answer to the mysterious grip golf holds on all of us. In plain sight, for all to see, the bunkers spell out I.O.U.