What golf looks like in pandemic America

corona golf map

Source: GCSAA

While the ‘Rona continues to wreak havoc on the entire planet, there are some bright spots (in the golf world, at least). Hope remains for a salvaged 2020 Tour schedule, including the Masters, PGA Championship and Ryder Cup, and more and more states and municipalities are opening courses.

Interestingly enough, golf was one of the few *non-essential industries that never really came to a halt due to the pandemic. Up to 23 states had some kind of restrictions in place on courses — some allowing local municipalities and counties to decide, some forcing shutdowns statewide, and many others remaining open. As of Wednesday the majority of the country is open to play, with most of statewide closures concentrated east of the Mississippi. But the trend is shifting, thankfully.

Speculate all you want about the longterm impact on the game, it’s hard to know what we’re really in for. Right now all we know that it’s going to be different — you can already tell.

On the course, things feel almost the same. Almost. Hanging out with the crew is as good as always, but it’s weird not being able to share a bowl, a bottle, or even a cart together. Honestly it kind of feels like you’re a single that’s been paired with another group, even though they could be some of your best friends. I never considered a golf cart to be such an important social space until they took the keys away from us. You miss out on conversation, camaraderie and all the little stupid shit you take for granted. Really, without the social aspect provided by golf carts, it’ feels like a completely different game.

It’s also weird seeing packed parking lots but not being able to walk through a lively clubhouse to check-in, and depressing to see the starter shack shuttered on a Sunday morning, with no one around to ask about the pin locations — very ghost town-esque. We’re told we can’t show up any more than 10 minutes before our tee time — no range, no pro shop or anything else. The cups are modified so we don’t touch the flagsticks, scorecards are gone, etc, etc.. Basically, once you tee off it’s just you, your clubs, a ball, and the course. Call me cliche, but the simplicity of it all is pretty relaxing — something we all need a little more of right now. There’s also something about walking the course that makes the game feel more intimate. I’d never once walked CGB’s home course, King’s Deer Golf Club, before all of this, but fee like I know the layout even better now. You have A LOT more time to think about your game, course management and the highs and lows of it all between shots. It’s an experience all golfers should have in their lifetime (mandated or not).

All that said, we should be thankful we’re allowed to play at all. It’s a luxury many other hobbyists can’t enjoy. But there are, of course, things to consider before you head to you local club.

Make sure to call or check the course website before you book your time for specific restrictions and rules in place — things are changing daily so you want to make sure you have some idea of what to expect when you get there. If you’re new to walking, I’d highly recommend enlisting a lightweight golf bag with comfortable straps, or your own push cart to make the transition a bit easier. Viruses and bacteria can stick around on the surfaces of a golf cart for quite awhile, and the cost to disinfect each one after each round would be exponential, so it’s hard to bank on cart availability. Next, keep pace. It’ll never not be an issue in the game, but when everyone’s walking it’s all the more important. Play ready golf, we’re not on Tour here. On the flip side, be patient, aka don’t be a dick. That’s an easy one. Lastly, support your local courses and the staff. Frustrating as it may be, they’re trying their best in order for us to be able to keep playing. Take care of the course, order food and drinks to-go, buy gift cards and anything else you can do to support them, and do what they say so they can stay open.

I miss seeing the pro shop and restaurant staff and messing around with the cart barn guys. I miss the bev cart and golf carts — and I even somehow miss post-round handshakes. That will all come back, for now it’s long walks down the fairway, and just being outside with my friends that I look forward to most. I’m just glad to be playing once again and savoring the experience more than ever.

To play, or not to play, that is the question

Corona_Golf_image

Masks are the hottest accessory on the course right now.

Quarantine Day #who knows at this point: It’s been weeks — possibly years — since I’ve set foot on a golf course. I’ve cleaned my clubs and reorganized my golf bag for absolutely no reason, multiple times, and rolled too many 4-foot putts on my tiny indoor putting green to count. Holla if you hear me.

All the social media challenges and endless hours spent on trick shot attempts, at-home workouts and watching replays of the good ol’ days will never fill the void we’re all feeling right now. I never considered a world without golf until now, but I definitely don’t want to live here anymore. At first it seemed courses would continue offering safe sanctuaries as we watched the world come down around us, but as the novel Coronavirus swept across the country it brought unprecedented change with it.

Courses are closed in 14 states, as of now, according to the GCSAA, with limited or restricted access in a number of others. Colorado is on the others list — with some municipalities allowing courses to renew operations under strict health and safety guidelines. With our local muni courses newly reopened we had a chance to jump on the tee sheet, so we took it.

It’s the first time I’ve ever second guessed if I want to golf. I mean, is it selfish to play when others can’t, is it reckless or otherwise controversial? Is it fine within the confines of “safe” play? Is it actually safe to play at all?

Having all the time in the world to overthink the decision it was on to making mental lists. Reasons to play include unrelenting cabin fever, missing the game and my friends, exercise — yeah I’m pulling that card — and the overall need for any sense of normalcy. Reasons not to play include becoming another statistic of the global pandemic, and/or contributing to its spread.

In short, we tee off in about two hours, walking 9-holes. We have to wear masks outside, contactless booking and payment, the clubhouse and driving range are closed, no-touch flags, modified cups, no scorecards, no carts, no nuthin’.

I’m excited to play, really. At most I’ll find a brief reprieve from this thing, at the least least I’ll come away with a golf experience I’ll be telling future generations about. Knowing — or at least believing — that my risk of exposure on the golf course is no greater than when taking my dog for a walk makes me feel a little less reckless. I’m practicing all the recommended social distancing when out in public, and my risk of transmitting it to others is low since I live and work alone at home, and keeping my adventures outside limited to “essential,” barring a round of golf.

It’s a bittersweet feeling — pairing the usual excitement of getting a round in with the anxiety of decision making during a global crisis — or maybe it’s just me.