Life as a Swingin’ Single

A few days ago, I played my first-ever solo round of golf. Playing golf alone has been on my bucket list for awhile, and I finally got up the courage to just do it. My husband has long discouraged me from trying such a thing, since he is always afraid I’ll get paired with some random guys who might hit on me, even though he knows it is mostly OMGs (old man golfers) out there. 

A few weeks ago, I had a preview of going it alone, when the two golfer gal pals I was playing with had to leave after nine holes. The course was jam-packed but I had the blissful experience of playing one hole all by myself. I hit an awesome drive and went on to make par, but there was a threesome of SOMGs (somewhat old man golfers) tailing me, and since the next hole was a par 3, I really had no choice but to let them join me. There was an Asian guy, a white guy, and a black guy, so as an Asian woman, I didn’t feel racially uncomfortable. They all turned out to be very pleasant and displayed a mastery of the art of brief but lighthearted golf chitchat. It is nice to golf with others, but since that one solo hole, I wondered if I could play better without having to worry about the social aspects of the game.

So I finally went out and tried it. I was actually scheduled to play with Bea, but she canceled due to some real estate thing she was working on. Fortunately, no one else had filled in the tee time. It was 2:30pm, the sweet spot after the morning rush dies down, and before the twilight crowd filters in. I arrived at 2:15pm and the starter told me to go right on through.

While waiting for the group ahead to clear the first fairway, I saw two OLGs (old lady golfers) drive up behind me in a golf cart. One of them said, “Are you alone? Do you want to play with us?” I didn’t want to assume that they’d be slow, but I also really wanted to play by myself, so I said, “How about if I get slow, I’ll join you.” They nodded in a “suit yourself” kind of way, and off I went.

I pulled my first tee shot left into the trees, and I thought, “Crap. Maybe I’ll play worse alone.” But the twosome ahead of me was already playing like crap, and I quickly caught up to them. After a hole or two, they let me play through, so I ended up stuck behind a skilled twosome ahead of me, who also offered to let me join them. I didn’t want to be rude, but I was determined to play alone. I decided to play two balls instead, so I could slow myself down and not end up riding them the whole way. 

That’s where things got hectic. I am the kind of person who walks into a room to get something and forgets what I walked into the room to get. I have a terrible short-term memory and sometimes drive around in circles because I can’t remember which way I was heading on a local suburban road. So imagine me trying to keep track of two balls, especially if they land in the deep rough. “Okay, one was by the red post and the other was by that short tree. Or was it by the white post? And which tree was it again?”

Things got really confusing on the putting green, where I am so accustomed to scanning all the ball locations to see who should putt first, that I actually found myself saying out loud, “Am I away?”

By the 9^th hole, I had lost 4 balls and realized I only had two balls left in my bag. Fortunately, I had parked my car in the end of the lot bordering the 9^th hole, so I was able to jog over to my car and raid my shag bag of beat-up balls that I wouldn’t mind losing. I grabbed 6 balls, which I was sure would last me through the back nine.

I didn’t keep score, but I knew I parred at least 3 holes. I made a few glory shots, with only the geese and dragonflies to witness. I also made some terrible shots that no one saw either. Out of sheer exhaustion, I only played one ball on the last hole. One thing about playing alone is that you get no rest in between shots, since you’re never waiting for someone else to play. When my round was over, there was no one to shake hands with, so I called my husband to say, “I did it.”

I had a giddy feeling driving home, like I had unlocked some secret of golf. Yes, golf is a social game. But there is a serenity to playing in private. Looking back, I loved being able to take my shots in peace, without worrying about rustling snack bar wrappers or clinking clubs or whispering playing partners who don’t think talking during other people’s shots is rude.

When I told my husband these things, he smiled. “You’re going to want to play by yourself all the time, now that you know how fun it is. It’s even better when you have the course to yourself and you can take your time.”

“I’ll have to wait for winter for that, probably,” I said. In the meantime, I’ll keep an eye out for that sweet spot of sparsely filled afternoon tee times. And I will bring at least a dozen balls next time.