Beas Welt

My sister and I were at a golf resort in the Schwarzwald region of Germany recently. We couldn’t have picked a worse date for it: It was late April, but winter had come back with snow, rain and temperatures barely above freezing. I posted a picture of us on Facebook, both huddled in winter coats and shawls and bracing the cold on the first tee.

The forecast promised a couple of hours of dry weather and so we set out. As it turned out, very wet snow started falling again as soon as we headed down the fairway, and we were already debating wether to go back or tough it out in the hope of that blue patch of sky over there winning the day, when it stopped. In the end, we played nine holes, stayed more or less dry and reasonably warm thanks to thermal underwear, three layers of outwerwear and sometimes even gloves.

We had seen the Women’s British Open in 2015, where the ladies looked much the same as we did. Somehow, they played good golf, as we did, in fact.

Still, I do think of golf as a summer sport and am determined not to play in temperatures below 50 degrees (or 10 degrees Celsius) ever again. We are playing for fun, after all, not for money. Anyhow, my post on Facebook got a response from a fellow golfer:

A bad day on the golf course is better than a good day at the office

Of all the golf related sayings I think this is the worst.

Why would anyone in their right mind prefer a bad day over a good one?

If you’re one of them, there are a few possible explanations. Firstly, you hate your job with a vengeance and would actually prefer to wash your windows, clean your toilet or do the dishes all day long (or any other task you really don’t like doing). I’d suggest you get another job.

If that means getting trained in something new, do it. You’ve learned to play golf to the level you’re playing at, you can learn anything. Okay, if you started playing as a child, this may not be true.

Secondly, you are a masochist. Which of course helps while learning to play golf. And while playing golf. I’m not. Not to the extent of gladly freezing my butt off. Or to happily suffer through a round of golf with 140 or so bad shots. If that happens, I’m frustrated and get angry. And would much rather be somewhere else.

Having lunch with a friend, maybe. Enjoying the good weather strolling along a river. Or having a good day at the office. Anything, really, that is better than a bad day on the golf course.