Golf Kept Me Going
A Striking Writer Discovers Golf at an Opportune Time
Everyone’s golf journey starts somewhere, and for most, it’s in their youth. In an informal poll of my golfing buddies, one said it was a way to spend time with his father, who worked long hours during the week. Another was in college, dating a woman who was extremely serious about the game and figured he would need to get serious about it to have a chance. (They’re now married.)
My golf journey started in my early 40s and in the most unexpected of ways: by going on strike with the Writers Guild of America in May 2023.
Like Cinderella at midnight, the work stoppage happened immediately, a whiplash that mixed feelings of empowerment, determination, confusion and fear. Any meetings I had were cancelled and my projects stalled. My day suddenly consisted of picketing for four hours in the hot sun. After two weeks and with no end in sight, my mood tanked. I was emotionally adrift and I felt like I was losing my mind.
I’m not one to have hobbies. The truth is I never needed one because work kept me grounded. But now, I was desperate for one. I thought about the options: Pottery? Carpentry? Gardening? Nah. Those lacked any sense of achievement. I needed something where I could track my progress. Something I could get good at. Something that felt like … work.
Golf won out.
What appealed to me was that it would be a struggle. As a beginner, there was no way to hide a shank onto the adjoining fairway. Or putting short from three feet. Getting better was just what I needed to keep me going. And when I commit, I commit. I signed up for lessons. I went to the driving range every week. I got fitted for irons. I set up a net in my backyard.
It’s not the cheapest sport when your income has been reduced to zero, but the rabbit hole was slippery, and I was down it. More importantly, I felt alive again because I had a challenge.
The strike is over. Writing is back to being the biggest chunk of my day, but I’ve worked golf into my daily routine. When I get stuck on a story, I go hit a few balls into my net to clear my mind. After an important pitch meeting, I reward myself by going to the course. And I’m currently drafting a comedy about a caddie.
I could not have foreseen how I would come to fall in love with the sport, but now I can’t foresee my life without it.