A Case for Less
Every so often an asteroid will buzz the tower of our celestial orbit, queuing click bait headlines announcing the impending apocalypse. Without fail their magnitude will be framed the only way a red-blooded American could comprehend: football fields. The funny thing, to me at least, is that my underwhelming clubhead speed could still nuke a sand wedge a 100 yards. I suspect describing an asteroid as a drivable par four likely wouldn’t inspire the same level of hysteria. But maybe it gives some insight as to why it is tough to get new players to take on golf. Golf is yuge, and it might be hindering its ability to grow yuge-lier.
Swinging a skinny stick with a small head to hit an even smaller ball into a fist size hole completely buries the lead that golf is a massive and overwhelming game. As someone who has had an at times unhealthy… passion for golf for nearly two decades, I still experience periods of crippling anxiety at the thought of heading to the course with a swing that is being held together with Scotch tape and a prayer. It’s a miracle I came back for that second round.
The average golf course spans 150 acres, there are 14 clubs in a bag, you play two 9 hole sides with the goal of shooting a par 72 with a swing that has 10 positions… all that’s missing is a train leaving New York at 60 miles per hour and you just gave a language arts major PTSD. Curiously, outside of junior golf, there doesn’t seem to be much of an emphasis on breaking golf down into more manageable pieces. The fact that there is even a debate on whether a hole in one on a par three course is a real accomplishment illustrates the bifurcation of the 6700-yard-championship-course experience, and everything else.
For the record, if you hole a shot from a tee box and write a one on the card, it’s a hole in one.
Talk to anyone who has recently taken a trip to Bandon or Pinehurst, and they will tell you one of the most memorable experiences is the time spent putting around the Punchbowl or Thistle Due and playing dollar KP’s on Shorty’s or The Cradle. Why do those experiences need to be limited to Mecca-tier journeys, who are likely only going to be enjoyed by those who are already fully established in the game?
I’m not going to pretend I know the first thing about the economics behind running a profitable golf course. There is likely a reason we only see these types of elevated mini golf experiences at properties with triple digit greens fees. However, I don’t think I’m out of line to say $275 for a five hour round where you’ll probably lose two sleeves of $4.00 balls generates an extremely narrow target demographic for this game. There has to be a middle ground.
It’s no wonder golf has historically had trouble attracting new generations of players when an alternative like basketball only requires a Hamilton and directions to the nearest public park. Basketball isn’t only basketball when it’s played on a glossy wood court with perfectly painted lines and uniformed referees. Basketball is tossing a crumpled up burger wrapper into a trash bin. It’s dribbling a waterlogged ball on slick concrete down at the local elementary school. That game winning three isn’t called into question because it wasn’t in an arena. The community allows it to be as big or as small is it wants. In doing so, the door is open to anyone who is willing to pick up a ball. By in large, the same cannot be said about golf.
I don’t think it’s just accessibility. There needs to be a cultural shift in the idea of what it means to participate in the game of golf. As we continue to broaden the scope, accessible outlets for golf should naturally follow. The good news is we are starting to see some of these communities that were on the fringe of the modern golf zeitgeist slowly sneaking up on the mainstream. Random Golf Club and their Field Kit. The Urban Golf events that Muni Kids puts on every Thursday here in Portland. Counterculture influencers and taste makers like Roger Steele, Christian Hafer, and Cole Young have all validated a generation of players who identify more with Happy, and less with Shooter.
My hope is that we all dedicate some time to thinking about how the game could have been more welcoming to us when we first started and take the lead in planting the seed of inclusion in your own community. It might just be simply participating. Crowdsource the movement. The only wrong answer would be complacency with the status quo.
That’s my case for less. Less pomp, lower barriers, shorter courses, fewer clubs. It might make some room for more players.