Guest Commentary - Golf: Not Just a Summer Sport Anymore

Today, as my friend Patty and I were working our way around nine holes on the golf course, we noted several cars that slowed down enough to make it clear people were curious, some that honked as they drove by, and others that stopped completely for a short time to watch us.

The only conclusions we could reach were that people either recognized us as rare and stunning examples of feminine excellence whose effervescence was exceeded only by our athletic grace, or they wondered what kind of insanity would cause someone to be on the golf course on a 36 degrees Thursday a week before Christmas.

Although our husbands should disagree, we humbly decided the latter to be the more reasonable conclusion, especially since, swaddled in our winter layers, we each resembled in silhouette the Pillsbury Dough Boy.

The question is: why would anyone assume there’s a correlation between sanity and golfing?

How many devoted golfers do you know about whom you occasionally wonder…?

How stable is one who would spend endless hours wracked with frustration, blood pressure soaring past levels that could result in life support, struggling with the temptation to spew naughty words learned from cable TV during family hour, furiously pledging never to play such a stupid game again, only to return the next day and joyfully contemplate the wonderful experience upon which he or she is about to embark. Isn’t one definition of insanity performing the same act over and over and expecting a different result?

I think that people who found it interesting that two women would be playing golf in close-to-freezing weather probably don’t play golf, know nothing about the game, and are clueless when it comes to the psyche of the average enthusiast. Or else they were crazed golfers, too, and were oh, so envious.

Some of my best friends are golfers. Sanity aside, I wouldn’t want it any other way.

Patty and I found the cold air exhilarating, at least until we couldn’t feel anything anymore.

Our fingers were so cold that a couple of times the club went flying with the ball. Our refreshments remained unopened because it was too cold to drink anything that didn’t steam.

Our toes were numb. Yet we finished nine holes like the devotees we are, with the promise that after the holidays, we will play again as soon as the weather permits.

That means whenever it’s leaning toward 40 degrees, the wind is mild, sun is shining, no precipitation is falling or ice sheeting the course, and the ground isn’t too frozen to accommodate a tee.

Call me crazy, but I think there’s no reason why golf can’t be a winter sport as well.