An open letter to all golfers
From a sincere cyclist
Dear golfers,
You’re missing out.
I know you don’t really enjoy swinging a golf club. Seeing that ball fly crooked and chasing after it and hitting it again only to be reminded your swing hasn’t corrected in the 10 minutes you’ve spent looking for the ball.
I know golfing is more about the time you spend outside. It’s more about the getaway. The time outside of the office. The company. The camaraderie. The commiserating over terrible swings.
It’s a chance to network. To find a new investor. To pitch an idea.
But come on.
How much do you really love it?
There’s the silly shirts with the diamond patterns and the pastel colors. And those shoes with the tiny spikes. The visors. The dress pants. The skin-tight gloves. Good grief, man. Oh, and the amount of money you spend on clubs. Outrageous. And then you gotta pay to play somewhere that employs people to manicure the grass. Think about that: the amount of time and money and water that goes into making that grass smooth enough to let your ball roll into a hole. They even have special rakes for the sand bunkers. That’s why it costs so much for you to actually play. But you don’t mind, do you? You relish that feeling of exclusivity — no — superiority, with your memberships and club dues.
I know, it stings.
Maybe I’m being too harsh.
Because, when I’m being honest, cycling is almost the same thing.
I wear funny shorts and skin-tight gloves. And a goofy looking dome protector, and special shoes with unnecessarily long socks. And the bikes — give me a break. Astronomical. And so many cyclists drive to the place they intend to ride, expending valuable fuel and time just to waste away hours trying to make fire between their legs. It’s no wonder they walk the way they do — like an underfed cowboy. Oh, and mountain bikers. They literally destroy swaths of nature in order to achieve a “flow state” in nature. And then you have the ones who lug all their camping gear on the bike over days and days to a some random destination and call it “adventure.” Or how about the ones who take up an entire lane of traffic? It’s like they want to be hit by a truck.
Hm.
Are golfers and cyclists the same?
Or are we all just a bunch of obsessive hobbyists hellbent on converting the others?
Thanks for reading today, cycopaths. Today’s post took a bit of a turn. I was going to write about a specific cyclist who lives out west, and I still plan on it. It’s just not ready for all your beautiful cycopathic eyes. So you’ll have to wait.
I’ll be honest, I started writing this letter with a very different endgame. I honestly want to try to make all golfers try cycling. I am a terrible golfer, and therefore I strongly dislike the sport. Actually, I can’t stand it. I find it a load of croc and golf courses should burn and return to natural states so I can ride my mountain bike on them.
But then I realized golfers and cyclists are more alike than not. And so I stopped typing and tucked this idea away for months. I thought about scrapping it entirely, frankly. Writing, though, should be an honest act. And so … I still won’t ever buy a set of clubs, but I think I might at least see golfers within the same peripheral.
Here’s to hobbies that simultaneously make us look ridiculous and drain our bank accounts.
Cheers!