It’s definitely not because we’re good at it.
Golf makes absolutely no sense. You wake up stupidly early, drive 40 minutes, pay money. spend four hours chasing a tiny white ball around a field, lose six of them, swear repeatedly, promise you're never playing this stupid game again.
Then, standing on 18: “What time are we playing next Saturday?”
That's golf.
It Starts With One Shot
Every golfer knows the shot.
That one where everything accidentally works.
WHAAAACK.
Straight out the middle. The ball flies exactly where you wanted it to. For seven glorious seconds, you understand Tiger Woods.
And that's it.
You're fucked.
You'll spend the next 20 years trying to do it again.
Golf Gives You Just Enough Hope
You can play absolute rubbish for 17 holes. Lost balls. Shanks. Three-putts. Emotional damage. Then you smoke one drive down 18.
Suddenly: “Something clicked today.”
Nothing clicked.
You shot 107.
But you'll be back.
It's Four Hours Where Life Shuts Up
Work. Emails. Bills. Kids. Phones. Responsibilities.
Then you get onto the golf course and life becomes beautifully simple: Ball. Hole. Get ball into hole.
And for four hours, you're hanging out with your mates talking complete shit. As you get older, that's actually pretty valuable.
Golf gives friendships somewhere to live.
Everyone Is Equal On The First Tee
CEO. Plumber. Lawyer. Teacher.
Doesn't matter.
We're all equally capable of smashing a brand-new Pro V1 into someone's swimming pool.
Golf is wonderfully humbling.
Everything Becomes Competitive
50 bucks says you cant sick that putt...
The Masters.
Closest to the pin?
Ryder Cup Sunday.
Last hole for drinks?
A guy who spent R1,000 at the pub last night will argue for ten minutes over a R20 bet. “It's not about the money!”
Of course it isn't, mate.
The Score Isn't What You Remember
You won't remember shooting 94 three years ago.
You remember:
- The 40-foot putt.
- The golf cart incident.
- The mate who couldn't escape the bunker.
- The golf tour that nobody is allowed to discuss at home.
- The birdie celebrated like you'd just won Augusta.
Golf gives us stories.
And somehow those stories get 15% better every time they're told.
And Then There Are Those Days
The best of days...
- Perfect weather.
- Good mates.
- Cold beer.
- Nobody needs to be anywhere.
You stand on a tee box, look around and think: This is fucking great.
That's the bit that's difficult to explain to someone who doesn't play golf.
That's Why We Keep Coming Back
Golf is expensive, frustrating, ridiculously difficult, and occasionally fucking stupid.
We complain about it constantly. We threaten to quit. We blame our clubs - but then we buy new clubs.
And Saturday morning... The clubs go in the car. The group chat starts firing. Someone asks who's bringing the beers. And off we go again.
Because somewhere between the bad shots, good shots, beers, bullshit and the mates we share it with... We fell in love with the game.
Not because we're good at golf.
But because golf makes life pretty damn good.
See you Saturday. 🍻🏌️
