What the heck does golf have to do with writing?

My husband’s golf buddy blew him out today because he was sick, so I kindly offered to accompany him for the 18 hole round that he had booked. Now that might sound like a blessing, but anyone familiar with me would be instantly doubtful. I have a very chequered history with ‘caddying’ to say the least. My compulsive nature seems to turn the whole exercise into a ball finding mission and I am not satisfied until I have scaled every steep cliff, sifted every bunker and done a fingertip search of every square centimetre of rough. It is not pretty. Once I disappeared down the steep banks of a gully to retrieve that last ball that I couldn’t pass by without at least attempting to reach. I appeared sometime later, victoriously clutching six rogue balls in my upturned sweatshirt, only to have my husband and his buddy rifle through them and throw about four of them back as ‘rubbish’ ones. I wouldn’t have minded so much, had I not fallen into the water during my mission and been absolutely soaking wet and covered in all manner of horrible things which can be found at the bottom of a New Zealand gully, including several native specimens, who continued to wiggle around in my clothing for the next thirteen holes.

I have no particular interest in golf, or its strict etiquette. My only reason for being there is to accompany my long suffering husband. Some things I have learned over the years include,  

1. It is not appropriate to cheer and whoop when a stray ball hits another golfer.

2. Not all unaccompanied balls on the fairway are ‘free.’

3. A golf trolley is not a ‘pram’ and nor should it be referred to as such, loudly.

4. Golf clubs must not be referred to as ‘bats’, ‘sticks’ or ‘thingies.’

5. When someone shouts ‘4!’ they do not require you to finish it up to 10.

6. There is no requirement to wave to total strangers.

7. If you are not a real caddy, your advice may be ignored without reprisals.

8. Sitting in a golf buggy does not make it yours.

9. Bunkers are not ‘sand pits.’ Writing rude words with the rake is not acceptable.

10. Golf is actually a real sport.

As you can see, years of walking the course with my husband has taught me a number of painful rules, usually by default and error rather than by actually reading them.

But today my interest was captured whilst in the toilet between the ninth and tenth tee. A sign on the back of the door offered a number of helpful hints for keeping the course moving during busy periods but the last point, was the one that kept me pondering for the next two long hours and completely distracted me from my ball recovery mission.

The point was this:

Remember, your place in the field is behind the group in front NOT in front of the group behind.

As I pondered on what that sentence could possibly mean, it was like uncovering a riddle with myriad answers. My initial thought was that it was intended to breed consideration between golfers. Maybe they had a problem with people in front of other groups, dawdling along as they chopped around the course and causing frustration. In which case, wouldn’t it be sensible to urge golfers to think of those poor souls stuck behind a bunch of amateurs who believed that a ten metre slice was pretty awesome?

I am a writer. Which by default means that things like this intrigue me. I am happy to report that for the remainder of the round I was blissfully well behaved. I only looked for balls that I was asked to and kept my oddities very much to myself. I did not even try to annoy my husband by deliberately stepping on the pristine green in my trainers, just to see if he was looking at me. I was so good, that he even bought me lunch afterwards. But my mind was working overtime. I had mentally left the golf course and the random statement had taken me into other areas of life altogether. It seemed to be releasing me, taking the pressure off somehow. To follow the group in front is to allow them to trail blaze, to do the hard work and allow you to trot happily behind, like following the pace setter in a cycle race or the safety car in motor racing.

My husband did his entire round of eighteen holes, looking continually over his shoulder. Any hint of another group of golfers way back in the distance, perhaps leaning on their clubs or impatiently tapping their feet would be enough to force him to take a shot much more quickly than he wanted to. Is this perhaps what it meant? That the emphasis was on those following, to do so with patience and consideration, not forcing another to move more quickly than they wished to?

It occurred to me that with the newness of 2014, it might be an interesting principle to put into practice. Maybe this year, instead of trying to run out in front and get noticed, I should devote more time to encouraging and blessing those who are ahead of me, bringing up the rear with more enthusiasm and panache than previously. Especially as an indie writer, I would do better to stop reinventing the wheel and listen to those who have trodden the miry clay ahead of me, take their advice and thank them for it.

There will be golfers reading this with their head in their hands, knowing that it doesn’t mean that at all. It will relate to some finer point of etiquette, only communicated by a funny handshake and a nod of the head, which lesser mortals such as I will never have access to (especially not if I keep playing in the sand pit/bunker on the fifteenth.) But for those of you out there who think about absolutely everything and search for meaning it in all, just have a think about what 2014 could look like for you. I realise that it’s contrary to everything else that you will hear this year, the ‘grab your opportunities, lead the field, beg, steal and lie to get what you want philosophy. Just for a while, take the pressure off yourself, hop in behind someone else’s jet stream and remember, your place in the field is behind the group in front NOT in front of the group behind.