As many stories do, this one starts with a cute guy.
But this story isn’t actually about the cute guy. It’s about the sport he is passionate about and introduced me to.
The sport that did what little else could — it calmed the overwhelming anxiety I started experiencing about six months into the pandemic. Anxiety that I have never experienced before in my life and that has kept me isolated and — as I like to joke — almost feral.
Golf soothed that anxiety…and my soul.
Almost a year ago, I made a new friend. As is the case with a good lot of my Facebook friends, we had been virtual friends for a few years before that, simply because we had written and edited for the same publication. I admired his eloquent writing and the vulnerable stories he so openly shared before I even knew him.
Words are my thing, and his made an impression on me. But he didn’t just write words…he wrote words that matter. He wanted to make a difference.
I had mad respect for how he showed up and made a difference in the world. Not only did he serve his country and deploy several times to Iraq and Afghanistan, he also donated a kidney to his best friend who was battling kidney disease a few years ago…without even blinking an eye.
This was a human I wanted to know better.
One of the first things he ever said to me was that he was obsessed with golf. He wanted me to know that right out of the gate. I remember chuckling because I had seen his photos on social media of him on golf courses with his buddies. And him watching Tiger Woods play on TV in his tiger onesie in his golf room.
His. Golf. Room.
That’s when I got curious.
I love when someone is passionate about something…and shares that passion unabashedly.
When he couldn’t actually be on the course playing golf, he was watching it. And when he wasn’t watching it, he was talking about it. He would talk about his game and how far he can hit a ball, but readily admitted he’s not the best putter. He would talk about playing golf with his dad when he was growing up…or how he met his best buddy on a cold golf course because they were the only ones crazy enough to be out there. And how that course where they met was the same course they were playing together when they got the call that my friend’s kidney was a perfect match for his best friend.
Seriously. Who wouldn’t be passionate about it given all that — and so much more — that it had done for my friend?!
And his passion was infectious.
I found myself wanting to talk about it more and more with him…and not just because he was interested in it, but because I was now, too. I wanted to know how his golf game was on Monday morning and if he won another $9.00 on Tuesday like he did on Monday. I wanted to learn about the different PGA players and the tournaments they played.
If I Googled a question I wondered about because I thought my friend might finally be sick of me asking him all my questions, I always ended up going down rabbit holes of epic proportions. Every damn time. If I wanted to learn about the different types of courses there were, I knew I might not come up for air for another hour. Who knew that was even a thing?!
Not too long later, I found myself looking forward to Thursdays, because golf would be back on TV. When I first noticed that, I realized what an impact it was having on me. I couldn’t watch the morning news anymore because of the anxiety it induced, and music often didn’t work for me when I was working because I needed to focus on the words I was editing instead of the lyrics of the music. I had been watching “Hamilton” and “Schitt’s Creek” on a continuous loop for months because they were safe and comforting and I knew what to expect.
But now, here was golf.
Now, I was watching Dustin Johnson win the Masters at the end of 2020. I was making pimento cheese sandwiches and peach ice cream sandwiches and Azalea cocktails for the 2021 Masters. I was getting excited for the majors like they were awards shows or a Super Bowl.
And in the middle of it all…
I. Was. Calm.
I suddenly felt centered when watching this sport I knew nothing about.
I felt focused and quiet and content and…happy when I watched golf.
When I felt my heart racing and was so unsure about what was happening in my world, golf helped me feel a tiny bit more grounded.
Yes, there were soft voices broadcasting the tournaments. But it was also about just getting the damn ball into the hole.
Focusing on that one goal.
That’s it.
I also grew fond of certain players…and sadly, less fond of others once I learned their backgrounds. Dustin Johnson was my first major winner. Jordan Spieth was making his comeback. Hideki Matsuyama winning the 2021 Masters. Will Zalatoris coming in second as a newbie, for the love. Phil Mickelson winning the PGA Championship. Tony Finau with his first win in 1,975 days at the Northern Trust.
I cheered on Patrick Cantlay to his BMW win in the PGA Tour Grill in the San Diego airport after dropping my daughter off at her freshman year at college. I watched Chesson Hadley get his first ever ace in the Wyndham Championship and witnessed him celebrating like anyone should after an amazing shot like that.
And can we talk about the Ryder Cup?! If I thought I loved golf before…this sent me over the top. I cried. (Shocker.) And I rewound so I could watch shots over and over again. I loved the way the European team had their arms on each other’s shoulders as their names were announced on the first tee. And Sergio Garcia blowing kisses to the spectators when the Europeans were booed.
Spieth’s incredible shot on 17 on Day 1 and almost eating it in Lake Michigan. DeChambeau’s 417-yard drive on the 5th. Scottie Scheffler winning his singles match against #1-in-the-world Jon Rahm. Steve Stricker and how easily he expressed his emotions after winning for the United States. Rory McIlroy saying he didn’t contribute like he wanted to on Day 1 and 2, but then watching him win his match on Sunday…and then letting his emotions overcome him with tears and curses on network TV.
I. Was. Swooning.
At both the tears and the curses.
For me, the Masters is like the Oscar awards with all its pomp and circumstance and tradition. But the Ryder Cup is the more fun, more passionate Golden Globes. Everyone’s excitement and honor of being there so evident in the joyful expressions on their faces. And afterward, the winners shaking up their bottles of champagne and spraying each other in joy.
It soothes my soul and makes my heart happy.
I’ve had a few friends ask me if I play now, and I don’t. I’m a little interested in learning, but I worry about the stress of actually playing taking away the soothing fun I get from it now. Maybe it wouldn’t…I don’t know. Maybe I would enjoy learning even more about the sport I’ve grown to love watching in the past year. Who knows.
Mostly, I just love what golf has brought to my life in the past year. And the players’ genuine passion for the sport.
And the calm it has brought to my life when I really, really needed it.
And I’m not just saying that because I won both bets I had with my friend about the Ryder Cup this weekend.
Because I sure as hell did.
But here’s the thing.
The only thing that means more to me than the honor and glory of winning those two bets against my favorite lifelong golf-lover is the passion for the game that golf fans and players have…
…and the welcome, overdue peace that it’s brought to my anxious, pandemic world.