Thursday, July 9, 2009

There was a moment during the AT&T National when Tiger spat in disgust at a shot gone wrong, and as the expectoration sailed through the air a connection was made. There was a kinship. Sure, he’s worth a little more than I am and has a better swing than I do, and he likely had a diehard fan or two who tried to collect said loogie to sell on eBay or possibly keep, but in that instant our frustration with the sport was one and the same.

If you’re new to golf, one refrain you’ll probably hear is to keep your head down. I’ve certainly been told this enough times to make me wonder whether I’m actually in, like, a war zone or, even worse, a prayer meeting or something. I realized last week that perhaps it isn’t just a matter of bowing your head and going all monk, so much as a reminder to focus on the ball until it takes flight. And when I combined this with a quicker backswing, the game once again made sense to me, its secret frequencies reverberating with an easy logic.

Now, more than ever, I see the business upside to golf, the boon to corporate life. The green itself is basically another forum on which non-golf matters are conducted. Cost of admission? The ability to wield these vile pieces of metal comfortably in a broader context. There’s still a long way to go for me. But it’s a skill I must obtain.

Recently I considered the career benefits of getting some more edumucation, until I came to my senses and recalled my disenchantment with the ivory tower. I think it was yet another e-mail solicitation for alumni donations that did it. Honestly now, does any other product or service on earth regularly ask you to pay more for it, even after you’ve paid in full? Truly, these schools are cunning contraptions. I sat down and did the math, weighing the preposterous calculus before me: would I rather pay $100k-$150k in tuition or green fees? For once, the outdoors got my vote.