One of my favorite rounds of golf started off as a quick 9 holes on a family holiday weekend in San Diego county. I’d sneaked off early one morning to chase the little white ball around before breakfast with 20-30 people that I am related to by way of marriage. Goat Hill is one of my favorite tracks in the area – one that deserves a blog post of its own – and so I was stoked to be teeing it up there the day after Thanksgiving.

The starter said I would be filling out a foursome. Two players walked up a few minutes later, a man and a woman. We did the intros and they said the fourth was running late and would be there in 10 minutes. The starter’s tee sheet was full so he told us to hit away and that he would run our late bird out to the second tee. The three of us split the fairway and I noted that they both had really nice swings. I was happy that it looked like a good grouping so far. Our female player stuck her approach 5 feet from the cup, but it was on a rather steep slope above the hole and her birdie putt just lipped out. Impressive start. We all made par and walked over to the #2 tee as our fourth player was being delivered as promised.

Apologies came from our late joiner – she had gone to the wrong course! There was much laughter and quick references to the post turkey day fog that many were experiencing. I then started sizing up our four ball a little more closely. The two women were friends, maybe mid-twenties. The guy was older, maybe mid-thirties, and he knew the late joiner but had only just met her friend for the first time back on the #1 tee. Something about the group felt right, and I wished that I had time to play the full 18 holes.

The second at Goat Hill is no joke – a 175 yard par 3 set straight into the prevailing ocean breeze, with a forced carry over a ravine. I’ve seen professionals struggle on this hole. Our late joiner was given the honors, and without much more than a few warm up swings she rifled a hybrid to 20 feet and warmly smiled. Damn, I thought to myself.

When someone has a certain level of competence, you can often just sense it. It isn’t always obvious. People don’t necessarily wear a I’m Good At This Shit credential, but there can be a way of carrying one’s self, a sort of quiet confidence.

As we walked towards the 3rd tee I discreetly asked the guy who are they? I immediately felt bad, because he was a fine player too – he had noted that he worked in the golf industry for a major club manufacturer. The guy laughed, and explained that we were out with two of the best Mid-Amateur players in the country.

I’ll leave the identities of these players to my own personal memory, but what I want to share here is how awesomely low key, inclusive, yet still high performance, this round of golf felt to me. These women were both +4 index golfers and casually bested my score by several strokes. But they were encouraging, rooting for my shots, and interested in hearing about my life. It was quite a different vibe than I’ve often experienced when pairing up with a group of, well, dudes.

~ pic by Christian Hafer

The above captures just about everything the world of golf needs more of – minimal stuff, interesting landscapes, and a woman absolutely striping it.

Power, grace, and feel are demanded if you want to play this game well. I’m aware that men can demonstrate those attributes, but I prefer to watch and learn from women. Golf history is littered with legends and stories and books and movies and boozy 19th hole bullshit sessions about all kinds of men who have played the game. The Golf Industrial Complex needs to do a better job of recognizing and telling the stories of women who also played and helped build the game we enjoy today.

~ pic from The Game of Golf

The great Joyce Wethered … get your learn on, boys.

I enjoy watching a bit of pro golf, and sadly there are fewer viewing options for the women’s game. I do watch the men, but honestly, the current state of their game feels a bit foreign to me. I could be talking about all the money, the in-fighting, the jockeying for global supremacy, but really I just mean how they actually play. Hitting a 340 yard drive and a 165 yard gap wedge is just, well, weird. I suppose the weird can be fun and entertaining, like a pro wrestler diving onto his opponent from god knows how high above the ring … but where does that kind of hype end? Or, once it starts, can it end?

I much prefer the LPGA as a source of inspiration. Their yardages are much more in line with my skills. The lack of nuclear bomb options also brings a strategic vibe that makes sense. Sure, some level of power is needed when your final target is several hundred yards down the fairway – but the average player is going to benefit from equal (if not greater) parts grace and feel. Delicate chipping around the green and a deft putting touch are where my bets get placed.

~ pic from Ecco Golf

Forget your speed training contraptions and just swing it like Lydia Ko.

Spirit is hard to nail down. Limitations of our individual senses can leave us confused, unsure of what we should be looking for. I don’t really have any secrets to pass on, and I sure as hell will never claim to be a spiritual person, but a bit like the old saying about obscenity goes, I know spirit when I see it. How do we find the spirit? My advice would be to stop talking, take a breath, and feel what is really happening … and hope there is at least one woman around.