I played golf yesterday morning with my two friends, Andrew and Plato.
The sky was blue. The sun was low in the sky. The greens were still sparkling with dew.
We walked, swung, and talked about our kids and how we had spent our week apart. We told stories. Ribbed one another. Laughed a lot.
On the fourteenth hole, Andrew hit a chip that rolled into his own putter, which had errantly been placed on the green, costing him a two-shot penalty and the lead.
First time I’d ever seen that happen. He took it well.
Plato lost a ball in the high grass on the seventeenth hole, handing the lead back to Andrew.
On the last hole, Plato holed a 20-foot chip to win by one stroke. Plato punched his fist into the air, knowing he had probably just won the match. Andrew had a chance to tie with a long putt, but he left it short.
I was a non-factor, having put five balls into four different ponds along the way.
Here is one of the beauties of golf:
When was the last time you spent nearly three hours with friends and didn’t look at your phone?
When was the last time you took a three-hour walk with friends and didn’t receive a call, answer a text message, or check email?
When was the last time you took a walk with friends and experienced moments you will never forget?
People are rather fond of championing the many ways to disconnect from the phone and the Internet. They love professing the value of being “in the moment.” There are programs that force your computer or phone off the Internet for designated periods to avoid the temptation of being connected.
I’m personally a fan of avoiding temptation by avoiding temptation, but if someone needs to tie their own hands by their back to stop themselves from clicking their device, so be it.
Or maybe just play golf. It’s a frustrating, inexplicable, seemingly impossible game to play, made more than tolerable by the fact it is played with friends between grass and sky, absent of life’s technological distractions.
