Maintaining dignity while golfing is hard enough without bringing politics onto the tee box.
But instead, I’m learning to be more dignified. I’m learning to take a deep breath, slide the big club back into my bag while realizing the error of my ways — should’ve used the 3 hybrid — wisdom I can now pass down, because isn’t that the ultimate gift of golf and the secret to living a useful life?
Then came the day this summer when my golf buddy Tim and I got paired up with two other golfers. I knew at once my dignity would be tested.
Tim and I are golf-compatible. We know and respect each other’s game. Case in point: I know that when Tim questions his game out loud, as in, “Why did I just do that?” he really doesn’t want an answer. And when I chunk a chip, Tim knows it’s OK to say, “That’s not like you, Tony,” but only after I putt out.
Anyway, we were on the first tee when two guys in a cart motored up to the box. We had already hit our drives. “Mind if we join you?” said the guy at the wheel as he got out and pulled his driver.
“I guess that was one of those rhetorical questions,” I whispered to Tim.
There were the quick introductions and small talk, dominated by this guy who maintained that Oregon’s golf courses are much better than Alaska’s. Who could argue? His buddy said nothing. I liked that…
