I am not a spiritual or mystical being. I place myself squarely in Gilman, Glenn, and Carl Sagan's camp in any debate on activist deities, organized religion, and stodgy cultural traditions. But I have to admit that there is no context to best explain my affinity for the game of golf than a spiritual sense. And my devotion to golf has not waned over the years - in fact I would say that I am only now, after 25 odd years of struggle, starting to properly understand and appreciate the game. It has been a long journey.
I picked up golf at a young age - playing the local par 3 course (Matticks) in Victoria with my dad when I would have been around 8. I say "Par 3 Course" - because I never once heard anyone in Victoria call it a "Pitch&Putt". I can remember the first time that my brother returned from Matticks after playing with my dad (I was still too young to go myself), and Dermott was excited that Dad had broken a tee with a ferocious swing! Wow - that was neat - I had to try this.
So I started playing along with them, scampering along hitting my Canadian Tire brand MatchPlay irons. Golf was such a tough game - but so rewarding when you hit a good shot. But playing with my dad was not what motivated me - for how could it? - I could never ever hope to beat him - because he hit it so long and putted so well. No - I discovered that one of my Grade 3 classmates also played - though he somehow played from the wrong side - and to have someone my own age to compete and learn with was more rewarding. That kid was Peter - and we've been golfing together ever since.. In those days he always seemed to be a little bit longer, a little bit better, and not nearly as prone to the disaster hole. I had to work to keep up with him.
After playing Matticks (aka Douglas Golflands) a few times, I entered some local tournaments at the course. I never once won one - though I occasionally did well enough to win a prize. Junior tournaments are the greatest experiences - they have lots of sponsors giving away golf stuff - so it's rare not to walk away with something worth more than what you paid to enter.
When I turned 12, Peter and I joined the Cedar Hill Golf Course - a local public course. This was a longer and trickier course with small greens and unpredictable conditioning (though by today's standards - as a Par-67 5000-yard course - this was not a long course). I think that there is no better place in the world to learn a short game - and anyone who spent their formative years chipping and putting on those bedeviling greens and fairways will always have a short game to rely on: one capable of creativity and miraculous recoveries.
Unfortunately my brother did not join me in my golfing exploits. He was as talented as I was, but seemed to lack the patience to deal with the bad shots and bad breaks that golf can dish out - and didn't enjoy the slow pace of rounds (4 or 5 hours were best spent elsewhere). No - he stuck to tennis and became an accomplished player - even giving lessons at the Cedar Hill Bubble during the summers. Still - it is a regret of mine that I was not able to get him interested in the game. But there's always hope - as even today he can play twice in 5 years and still break 100 (and he is probably better than you). My dad, busy at his job, didn't get a membership either - so he played only occasionally - and it didn't take me very long until I became as good as he was and we would have wonderful matches. He would never let me win (as near I could tell) - but he was always happier when I won than when he did. And since I was happier when I won too, maybe he did let me win? No - I still don't think so.
Just before I turned 14, I progressed up the ladder and joined the Uplands Golf Club. To someone used to playing Matticks Farm and Cedar Hill this was an oasis of beauty. It was always so green. There were a lot of other good juniors at the club - and they always beat me. I never once won a club tournament as a junior, but I did get my handicap down to single digits as a 15 year old. I remember the first time that I broke 80 at Uplands - it was when I was 14. I shot an even-par 35 on the front nine (with 10 putts I think) and then birdied 11 to go 1-under. Now I was way out my comfort zone, so I gacked it in to shoot a smooth 75.
The two highlights of my junior career were the 1988 Gorge Vale Spring Invitational and the 1989 Nanaimo Mid-Island Junior. In the Gorge tournament, I shot an 80 off my 13 handicap to win low net honours and a huge trophy! For the 1989 Nanaimo tournament I somehow shot 73 off a 10 handicap and won the tournament outright. This round included a hole-in-one on the par 3 eighth (to a temp green) - which I followed up with a birdie en route to a 2-shot victory over current Asian Tour regular Darren Griff.
After this promising start, my junior career never really got going. I never got my handicap below a 6 and fought a horrible duck hook that I could never rely on for years and years. Peter was a far better player at this point with a handicap close to scratch. I didn't even qualify for my high school golf team (missed by 2 shots), though the fact that they went on to win the provincial championships does show that this was a good group.
My lowest and most disheartening moment came at the 1990 BC Junior at Chilliwack. I shot a respectable 76 in the first round, and then followed it up with an even-par 71. Through two rounds, I stood at 5-over par and in a tie for 13th place. Through a quirk of fate, I ended up tied with Peter (who shot 75-72), so we would play the third round together in the 5th to last group. A fellow Uplandsian, Kerry Mann, was a couple strokes under par and the two-round leader, so this promised to be a memorable tournament.
But somehow things went horribly awry. I double bogeyed the first hole (which I had birdied the first two days), and ballooned all the way to an 84 - missing a short putt on the last hole. In those days the tournament had both a 36 hole cut (to low 100) and a 54 hole cut (to low 50) - and I now stood on the precipice of missing the 54 hole cut. A quick scan of the numbers revealed the horrifying truth. My total of 231 put me squarely in a tie for 51st - and I would not only miss the cut by 1 stroke, I would miss it by 1 place. I knew this long before anyone else did, and the 30 minute wait while the doddering scorekeepers figured it out was excruciating.
But as they say - when one door closes, a window opens - and that very day when I phoned home to report on my agony - my mum informed me that the University of Victoria had offered me a full scholarship to pursue my studies in the field of Engineering. Well golf was not important - a promising career was - so I was delighted with the news.
The next fall I journeyed to the University of Victoria (all of a five minute bike ride from my high school), and found that things had changed. All my junior playing partners had left Uplands, and I was all alone if I wanted to play a game - which I rarely did. I never gave up the game completely during University but I did not play often and I did not play well. The low point occurred in 1995, the year that I graduated. I think I only played 12 times all year, and only broke 80 once. Golf was no longer my passion. I guess I thought that I had outgrown it - there were labs to do, exams to study for, jobs to apply for, and beer to drink. Golf disappeared from my radar screen.
I worked in Victoria for a couple years after graduation - and continued to play sparingly. My dad, on the other hand, started to play more regularly and joined the waiting list to become a full Uplands member. We played periodic matches, and I would give him around 7 shots - me with an 6 handicap, and him with a 13. He would usually win because I was a terrible 6 handicap! And since I knew that I was far better than this, it became frustrating and I was even less likely to play.
Strangely enough, things changed only after I moved to Vancouver in April 1997. I was now separated from my home club and could no longer play any time I wanted for free - but somehow- this led me to play more. I don't know why. I even qualifed for the Club Championship for the first time that August - making it all the way to the semi-finals. Golf slowly became fun again. I think I finally figured out a few pointers that I had so far avoided learning: 1) Don't overswing! 2) Take your medicine when you hit a bad shot 3) Commit to each shot. And my duck-hook became a hard-draw that I could trust.
After a couple of years slowly getting my golf game back on track, I ran into my long-lost friend Peter, now fresh from Brazil with a charming Brazilian wife. He had barely played in years too but somehow when we dragged ourselves out onto the course, things changed. The joy came back instantly - and we were back to being the kids we always were again - except that now we actually realized how rare and cool the feeling was. I now appreciated golf a hundred times more than I did when I was just an idiot teenager.
And when I get to play a round with my dad today, I find that it's a constant in my life. Twenty-five years may have passed since we first played together - but there is a continuity between the years and the games. Golf is a mystical game which I can never hope to sell to a non-golfer. You have to play it for years before you "get it". But you eventually will get it - there is a reason why there's so many of us addicts. Even now, I still reach new levels of understanding about it - and I've probably played 2000 rounds over the last 25 years.
Golf is a self-involved quest for perfection that you will never achieve. The sooner you figure this out and shift your focus to improving your execution and not on controlling uncontrollable results, the happier you will be. Somehow I've turned myself from a 17 year old (with a 6-handicap and a loopy swing) into a near-scratch championship golfer at 32 (though still with a loopy swing). There is hope for us all.
The book that I now recommend for understanding the essence of golf is Michael Murphy's "Golf In The Kingdom". Reading it is a baffling ordeal of mysticism - just like golf itself. Pick it up - you won't be disappointed.
Happy golfing. I'll see you at the 19th hole.
