A raw reflection on the beauty of the game, despite the scorecard
Some days, golf makes me feel like I’ve figured it out. Other days, I wonder why I even bother showing up. Most days—it’s a little of both.
And yet, I still play.
I still tee it up, even when my swing feels like it’s held together by duct tape and good intentions. I still walk (or limp) down fairways after topping my drive into a ditch or chunking a wedge so badly it leaves a scar on my ego. I still pencil in my name on the scorecard even when I know full well the number at the bottom won’t be something I brag about.
Why?
Because somewhere in the middle of all that frustration, there’s beauty. And not just in the game—but in the space it gives me.
Golf, for me, is 120 or so acres of peace. Perfectly manicured grounds, the kind only a superintendent and a few turf guys can truly appreciate, but anyone can feel. The walk between shots clears my head. The silence before a putt calms my nerves. There’s nothing like standing on a tee box with the sun just breaking through the trees and realizing: I’m right where I’m supposed to be—even if I just carded a triple.
At this stage in life, I don’t play to win. I play to feel. I play to think. I play to spend a few hours not being a dad, husband, worker, or bill-payer—but just being a guy chasing a ball and maybe chasing something bigger.
I’ve hit more bad shots than I care to admit. I’ve walked off greens shaking my head, wondering if I’m getting worse, or if the game just has a cruel sense of humor. But I’ve also hit one perfect 6-iron in the middle of a garbage round that made the whole day worth it. I’ve had quiet conversations with friends on the walk from the 7th to the 8th that I’ll remember long after I forget the final score.
So yeah, I still play. Even when I stink. Because golf isn’t just about getting better. It’s about coming back.
It’s the game that humbles me, challenges me, and weirdly enough—heals me. And no matter how many swings go sideways, I know I’ll be back out there next week, trying again.
And if you’re still feeling frustrated halfway through your round, there’s always The Mid-Round Manual—a little inspiration for frazzled golfers, written from one to another. Sometimes, a simple shift in mindset is all it takes to bring you back.
Because it’s not about perfect. It’s about being present.
And for me, that’s enough.
—Kurt
MidLifeGolf.com