Can’t Put It Off Any Longer: ¿Golf o No?

By A. Govea

It’s been almost four years since I last played golf — cuatro años, gente — and not because I suddenly became smart. No, it was because my heart decided to pull a full telenovela plot twist: triple bypass, plus some bonus procedures on my legs thanks to a few rebellious arteries. (Full disclosure, last sentence I put in my text and AI changed to this) I like it Pero it is too much for me. The real sentence was “I had a triple bypass and a procedure on both my legs to clear blockage.

 I’m doing better now, and for the last couple of Springs I’ve been threatening to get back out there. The only thing stopping me is a haunting question: “Do I really want to put myself through that again?” Also the price. And the time. Tambien.

So yes, I have reasons, but the big one is: Do I even enjoy golf?

I started playing as a young man, and looking back, I was never good. Sure, I had the occasional good round — the kind that tricks you into thinking, “Ahora sí, I’ve mastered this game.” After one of those rare miracles, I’d even give unsolicited advice at the 19th hole.

Then I’d go back out the next week and couldn’t even break 100. My first thought? “Somebody messed with my clubs.” Because obviously it couldn’t be me.

In golf, when one part of your game falls apart — your putting, your driver, your will to live — you tell yourself, “No big deal, this is fixable.”

Pero when nothing is working, especially right after a “great” round (great being a very flexible word), you just stand there thinking: “What the hell?” And eventually: “I hate golf. Why do I keep doing this to myself?”

I once read an article by Larry David where he said he finally quit golf and felt so happy he started skipping and humming a tune. Skipping!

When I read that, I thought, “Why don’t I do that?” Well… maybe not the skipping part.

But maybe — just maybe — after this long break, I’ll surprise myself. Maybe I’ll break 80. Honestly, at this point, breaking 90 would make me feel like I won the Masters. The truth is, I was never a great golfer as I stated before. Maybe I enjoyed the camaraderie and the 19th hole more than the actual game.

Especially with family. We used to have our Thanksgiving morning family tournament — which I never won. Not once. Pero I laughed a million laughs, many at my own expense.

Now that I’m reaching the end of this article, I think I’ve found my answer.

I’m heading to the driving range. Time to get back to basics — which for me means simply hitting the ball towards the right hole. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll gain some confidence in my fairway woods, which have always been… well… hit or miss.

Plus, like everyone else these days, I need a distraction. And who doesn’t need a good laugh?

So if you’re a weekday‑special‑rates golfer, look out — I might be on the tee box next to you. Fair warning: it may take me a while to control my slice.

Nos vemos en el tee.