(Article) Playing Alone

Playing Alone

In golf, as nowhere else, man is entirely self-sufficient.
By Tom Chiarella
(article edited for content - emzadii)

I'm dropping balls on a tee box, in the rain, on a Monday, hitting the same shot over and over again. One 4-iron followed by another, then another. What can I tell you? It's the thirteenth hole on this public course I love called Hulman Links, in Terre Haute, a par three-185 yards of carry to a really nasty green, guarded on either side by these ragged, overgrown maples. You'd call the rain, at most, a light drizzle, and I can play here all day for twenty-six bucks.

I'm all by my lonesome, into my second round, playing singleton, working hard at this point not to catch up to the twosome that slipped in front of me several hours ago. At the same time, I'm concentrating on staying ahead of any foursomes that may be gaining on me. I've just played thirty holes on my own. No sense screwing with the karma. I want to be alone. I drop a ball, take a look, swing. Grab another club, move to the next tee box, drop another, take a look, swing. There isn't a soul in sight. This is precisely the idea. I'm playing solo.

Playing by yourself is one of those pleasures golf offers that no other sport does. You can shoot baskets on an empty playground. You can rent a batting cage for an hour, or you can hit tennis balls shot at you from one of those hideous cannons, but none of that is made to last; none of that is anything more than a warm-up for the real thing. Only golf offers you, just you, the whole game. And let's face it, if you can't play alone - if it just isn't possible for you to grab your bag and walk nine holes by yourself once in a while - then maybe you just don't get it. Any of it.

Golf has moments some people might consider ugly, or sad. A guy standing alone in the rain on a Monday, hitting shot after shot in order to avoid the possibility of pairing up and the associated prospect of a little conversation, might qualify as pathetic in certain circles. But, hey, today I'm grumpy, I'm playing well, and I just don't have it in me to be impressed by somebody else's lame attempt to shape a tee shot. I have no interest in reading the green for anyone else. Or whistling praise for someone else's short game. Or poking around in the woods for his used-up Pinnacles. I want to be alone....