In Praise of the Golf Buddy

A couple weeks ago, a friend reached out to me with a simple request: Any chance you can play golf somewhere on Sunday?

He didn’t care about the venue, or the time, or even the cost. He didn’t need to play a match, and didn't even really want to keep score. He just needed a mental health day. Things had been so stressful at work of late, he told me, that his nerves were frayed. He needed to breathe in some clean October air, hit a few crisp iron shots, share a few dumb jokes, and forget about life for a while.

If you’re familiar with adult male friendships, you know this is the equivalent of a ship at sea sending up a distress signal. The vessel might not be sinking, per se, but it might need to be guided back to friendly waters by another ship. It takes courage to send up that kind of flare, and I think it’s essential to answer the call when you see one.

So a few words, if you allow me, in praise of The Golf Buddy.

I have been The Golf Buddy at various points in my life, and last month was one of those times. My friend Steve and I ended up teeing it up at Eisenhower Preserve, a municipal course near Annapolis, Maryland, that costs around $60. Andrew Green, who has his fingerprints on some of the best courses in the United States, redid the green complexes several years ago, and one of the course’s unique features is that he took away all the bunkers. If you want interesting architecture at a minimal cost, Eisenhower is one of the best values in the Mid-Atlantic. But golf architecture doesn’t really matter, I’ve learned, when you’re called upon to play the role of The Golf Buddy. It’s just a bonus.

I have needed The Golf Buddy to come to my own rescue many times, and I am blessed to have quite a few at my disposal. Wealth is one way to measure success in life, but how extensive your rolodex of Golf Buddies is might be a more rewarding method of appraising exactly what kind of life you’re living.

The Golf Buddy should be open to deep conversations — sympathetic concerns about marriage, finances, and parenting — but deep conversation is not a requirement. Sometimes, the best gift The Golf Buddy can provide is friendly-but-comfortable silence. There is more than one kind of therapy in this world. Sometimes, it’s helpful to pay someone who will force you to talk about your feelings. But other times, it is helpful to pay a golf course so you can walk (or ride around) with a Golf Buddy for four hours, each of you saying very little.

The Golf Buddy understands there are no easy answers to life’s complex questions. But hitting the ball, and walking after it with someone whose company you enjoy, can be as comforting as religion.

During COVID, The Golf Buddy was unexpectedly upgraded from the role of Outdoor Therapist to the role of Life Preserver, which is the real reason golf experienced a boom that has yet to fade. A golf course was not just a place to share a beer, or share a smoke, or share a laugh over the absurdity of pool noodles resting in the bottom of cups. It was an opportunity to hang on to the idea of community. One Golf Buddy and I played together for 40 consecutive Sundays that first year of the pandemic, on days when we couldn’t feel our hands and on days when it was so hot, we sweated through our hats. I don’t remember much of what we talked about. But I do remember we kept each other from going insane, one Sunday round at a time.

During my recent round at Eisenhower, I opted against a sensible pitchout and instead attempted to hit a shot that threaded its way through a spiderweb of tree branches. My ball not only drilled the most sizable branch, it dropped straight down and then began trickling downhill along a cart path back toward the tee. For the length of a football field, it did not touch grass, and did not come to rest until it was 140 yards away from that villainous tree. My friend Steve doubled over in laughter and could not stop giggling for several minutes. It was the healthiest laugh he’d experienced, he confessed, in months.

Somewhere, right now, there is a Golf Buddy in your life who needs you.

They are trying to be the best version of themselves, but their burdens and anxieties are weighing them down. They might want to talk about them. They also might prefer to spend an afternoon getting teased about their terrible chipping, listening to music, and being briefly divorced from an addiction to their phone. You should reach out to them. You will figure out which direction to row as the round unfolds.

And someday, when the waves of your life are so big you can scarcely see over them, they will sense what needs to be done. They will meet you on the first tee and do what the Golf Buddy does best. Tow you back to shore.