Mid Life Golf

Honest takes on life, gear reviews, and stories from the mid-life fairway. Golf, adulting, and generally finding and improving your swing—on and off the course.

First Tee After the Thaw

The season always starts with more hope than warm muscles.

Tomorrow morning, I’ll swing a golf club outdoors in Wisconsin for the first time since October. The snow’s long gone, the grass is still wearing its winter coat, and I’ve got that familiar mix of excitement and quiet dread humming under the surface.

It’s been a long Wisconsin winter. As usual, I told myself I’d stretch more, work on tempo drills in the basement, maybe even fix that hitch in my transition. I didn’t. What I did do was survive another off-season, lose a little flexibility, gain a couple pounds, and somehow make my way back to spring with a bag full of hope and grooves that haven’t seen daylight in five months.

And here we are. Opening Saturday with our usual crew (or more)—24 guys, give or take a few snowbirds and sore backs. It’s not a league exactly, more like a standing promise. Same time, same place, every Saturday morning until the frost returns. Some of us stretch. Some of us limp. Some of us show up with stories from the week, others just want the quiet. We pair up, ride out, and play it as it lies.

There’s always a buzz to the first tee of the year. The jokes fly faster than the swings. Someone’s got a new driver. Someone else already regrets theirs. Nobody has any feel around the greens. And everyone swears they’re just “getting loose.”

But underneath it all, there’s this almost sacred feeling. Like we made it back. Like life, with all its distractions and responsibilities, still gave us this one little gift—a few hours with friends, chasing a ball across a course that feels both familiar and brand new.

That first swing tomorrow? It’ll probably feel awful. I’ll chunk it or thin it or just barely make contact. But I don’t really care. Because the season has started. The cart tires will leave fresh lines in the dew. The clubhouse will smell like burnt coffee and bacon (I wish). And for the next six months, I’ll have a reason to get up early on Saturdays that has nothing to do with work, or chores, or being responsible.

It’s golf season again in Wisconsin. Time to tee it up.

– Kurt
MidLifeGolf.com

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