I'm Not Good at Golf. I'm Still Obsessed.

Okay so. It's raining. It has been raining for what feels like a geological era. I've checked the radar so many times my phone is probably concerned about me, rearranged the merchandise rack twice, refilled my water bottle three times for no reason, and keep walking to the window like the weather's going to be different than it was four minutes ago. This is the golf equivalent of your favorite show going on hiatus mid-season, and I am not built for the wait.

Which is a wild sentence for me to be writing, because two weeks ago I didn't care about golf enough to have opinions on rain delays. So let me back up.

Missing last weekend's sunny scenes

The Weekend Everything Changed

Saturday and Sunday were, and I cannot stress this enough, perfect. Blue sky, the whole course packed with people who clearly also checked the forecast and canceled their other plans. My dad was in town, and my brother — who's spent my entire life thinking anything I get into is a phase — tagged along, mostly, I think, to watch me fail in real time.

I did not fail. Not the whole time, anyway.

Hole 6 — Red Oaks, a short par-4 I will now defend with my whole chest as the best hole on this course — is where it happened. My tee shot smashed off the club like shattering glass and soared higher and straighter than anything I've hit in two months of doing this. No one was more shocked than me when my second shot stopped rolling near the middle of the green. And then — this is going to sound dramatic, I don't care — it felt exactly like the first time I caught a real wave. That specific quiet in the middle of all the noise, calm you didn't earn, right before you pop back out into the sun feeling relaxed, stunned, completely addicted. That's what it felt like when the ball rattled into the cup and stayed there.

I wrote the 3 on the scorecard in black Sharpie. The trees and every blade of grass out there nodded in approval. I have never felt more powerful in my life, a feeling that lasted exactly one hole, because my tee shot on 7 almost hit the golf cart. It didn't matter — I was already somewhere else mentally, and I'm aware nothing is more insufferable than someone narrating their own round shot-by-shot, so I'll spare you holes 8 through 15. Just know they happened. I don't remember most of them.

I found my way back by hole 16 — Fortress, a par-3 that sounds like it's daring you before you even hit — where I made a par. If Red Oaks was the lightning strike, Fortress was proof it wasn't a fluke. Two data points. That's basically science. My dad and my brother watched both, my brother mostly to see me fail in real time. His exact reaction to the birdie was "wait, what," which I am choosing to interpret as respect.

So Here's the Thing

Here's what I keep coming back to. I am bad at golf. Not humble-bad — genuinely, measurably not good, in a way that would end most hobbies I've ever attempted. I quit pottery after one lopsided bowl. I do not do things I'm bad at.

So why did one par and one birdie turn me into someone who got weirdly emotional about a rain delay?

I don't think it's actually about the score. I think it's everything the score is wrapped in. It's the sunset doing something unreasonable on hole 9. It's the fact that I've seen more wildlife on this golf course than in most actual nature documentaries. It's that Oxford Greens threw an entire tournament built around the beach — sunscreen and speakers, not taking any of it too seriously — because apparently even some of the people who run golf courses know the sport takes itself too seriously sometimes.

Golf, it turns out, comes with a whole world attached to it, and the world is what got me.

That, or I'm the kind of person who needs to suffer a little to feel like something's worth having. My therapist and I have a list. This can go on it.

What Happens Now

I'm buying real clubs. Mine are borrowed, mismatched, and one may not technically be a golf club. I texted Hannah — she's our resident expert, she'll know exactly what I need. No more hit and hope. I'm a golfer now.

Hopefully the rain is gone tomorrow. Even if it isn't, I'm playing this weekend. Are you?

Tell me I'm not the only one who's had one good shot completely ruin them for the rest of their life. What was yours? 👇

Chase Your Own Red Oaks Moment The soggy weather is (hopefully) finally clearing out, and the forecast for the weekend looks spectacular. The fairways are open and ready — go find yours.

👉 Lock in Your Weekend Tee Time Here

Grab a Seat at the Bar If you've got a par, a birdie, a shot you're still thinking about — come tell us about it. Cold drinks, great food, and I promise to actually listen instead of just waiting for my turn to talk about my birdie again.

👉 Check Out the Bar & Grill Menu

🍁 Be On The Lookout: Oktoberfest Summer's not over yet, but I'm already hearing whispers about this fall's Oktoberfest Golf Tournament — one of Oxford Greens' most beloved events. Lederhosen and dirndls on a golf course. Who wants to miss that?! Dates and details are still coming together, so keep an eye out here for when registration opens.