Like this next shot is even POSSIBLE, right?
The Moral Tortures of the Game of Golf
The sand traps of our minds
Humorous essay about the game of golf
I well, too well understood that to think, in my situation, was to be lost
-- Edgar Allan Poe, 'The Imp of the Perverse'
I propose a small rule change to the game of golf that will make it a fairer and far less frustrating sport, at least for masochistically reflective individuals like myself who constantly blow simple putts for no good (i.e. sport-related) reason -- and who, therefore, must be falling victim to an insidious form of conscience-driven performance anxiety, as if a little voice were whispering in their ear when they're out there on the green, perhaps just three feet from the hole: 'Are you SURE you deserve to make this? Don't you think, rather, that you should miss it -- if only out of sheer spite?!' That's not to say that we routine putt-missers have a worse conscience than the Tiger Woods of the world -- just that our consciences are more weasel-like and less likely to scruple at embarrassing us in front of spectators -- though if none are nearby, they'll settle for galling their victim personally with a completely unnecessarily missed 'tap-in,' sometimes from as nearby as two feet or less!
To nip these mind games in their devilish bud, I propose the expansion of the golf-course hole size to a diameter of at least 3 feet, preferably 6. (Hear me out!) With this adjustment, golfers will henceforth be judged on their ability to play golf, thank you very much, and not on their ability to stifle 'that still small voice within.' I mean, let's face it: if a player of any talent misses a two-foot putt, it's a result of psychological masochism , albeit at a level so subtle that the victim him or herself is unlikely to consciously recognize it as such. The golfer, in the words of the insightful Edgar Allan Poe, 'is another of the countless victims of the Imp of the Perverse': he misses the shot for the reason that he knows he should not! 'Beyond or behind this there is no intelligible principle; and we might, indeed, deem this perverseness a direct instigation of the archfiend, were it not occasionally known to operate in furtherance of good.'
It may be objected that the committed masochist will 'compensate' for the new hole size by sabotaging herself elsewhere, say by slicing more frequently at the tee. Although this could certainly happen in extreme cases, this article deals with only moderately psychotic players such as myself, the ones who can forgo excessive worry on long shots (both literal and figurative ones), thanks no doubt to the full engagement of their brains in such cases with shot-related considerations. It is the easy shots which vex the average player the most from the psychological point of view, insofar as they provide the golfer's brain with the greatest leisure to entertain maliciously distracting reflections: 'Ooh, Brian, suppose that, just before the ball left the club head, you turned the putter just an itsy-itsy-itsy little bit to the right?! Ooh, wouldn't that be terrible? Well, just don't do that, okay, that's all I'm sayin'! Heh heh!' Nor is it just sorry saps like myself who are affected by this mischievous auto-suggestion. We've all seen top-notch golfers miss those easy putts on Sunday afternoon television and then hit themselves on the forehead, as if to say, 'I could have had a V-8!' Right? Well, there you go: What possible explanation is there for such inexcusable golfing, especially on the part of a pro, except psychological masochism a la Poe's 'imp of the perverse'?
Well, Brian to the rescue, because from now on, we widen the hole to a 6-foot diameter or so, okay? Then we're all playing on the same psychological playing field at last, and we'll see who's the best golfer -- rather than seeing who's the least blatant victim of mind games. In short, adios and good riddance to the moral tortures of the game of golf!
(Besides, there's something disproportional about a game that starts out with a huge field, only to finish at a pinprick of a hole, scarcely large enough to accommodate the golf ball in the first place. If football were played so, the players would have to run through a narrow doorway in order to reach the in-zone.)
-- Edgar Allan Poe, 'The Imp of the Perverse'
I propose a small rule change to the game of golf that will make it a fairer and far less frustrating sport, at least for masochistically reflective individuals like myself who constantly blow simple putts for no good (i.e. sport-related) reason -- and who, therefore, must be falling victim to an insidious form of conscience-driven performance anxiety, as if a little voice were whispering in their ear when they're out there on the green, perhaps just three feet from the hole: 'Are you SURE you deserve to make this? Don't you think, rather, that you should miss it -- if only out of sheer spite?!' That's not to say that we routine putt-missers have a worse conscience than the Tiger Woods of the world -- just that our consciences are more weasel-like and less likely to scruple at embarrassing us in front of spectators -- though if none are nearby, they'll settle for galling their victim personally with a completely unnecessarily missed 'tap-in,' sometimes from as nearby as two feet or less!
Hole in 2, 707!
To nip these mind games in their devilish bud, I propose the expansion of the golf-course hole size to a diameter of at least 3 feet, preferably 6. (Hear me out!) With this adjustment, golfers will henceforth be judged on their ability to play golf, thank you very much, and not on their ability to stifle 'that still small voice within.' I mean, let's face it: if a player of any talent misses a two-foot putt, it's a result of psychological masochism , albeit at a level so subtle that the victim him or herself is unlikely to consciously recognize it as such. The golfer, in the words of the insightful Edgar Allan Poe, 'is another of the countless victims of the Imp of the Perverse': he misses the shot for the reason that he knows he should not! 'Beyond or behind this there is no intelligible principle; and we might, indeed, deem this perverseness a direct instigation of the archfiend, were it not occasionally known to operate in furtherance of good.'
It may be objected that the committed masochist will 'compensate' for the new hole size by sabotaging herself elsewhere, say by slicing more frequently at the tee. Although this could certainly happen in extreme cases, this article deals with only moderately psychotic players such as myself, the ones who can forgo excessive worry on long shots (both literal and figurative ones), thanks no doubt to the full engagement of their brains in such cases with shot-related considerations. It is the easy shots which vex the average player the most from the psychological point of view, insofar as they provide the golfer's brain with the greatest leisure to entertain maliciously distracting reflections: 'Ooh, Brian, suppose that, just before the ball left the club head, you turned the putter just an itsy-itsy-itsy little bit to the right?! Ooh, wouldn't that be terrible? Well, just don't do that, okay, that's all I'm sayin'! Heh heh!' Nor is it just sorry saps like myself who are affected by this mischievous auto-suggestion. We've all seen top-notch golfers miss those easy putts on Sunday afternoon television and then hit themselves on the forehead, as if to say, 'I could have had a V-8!' Right? Well, there you go: What possible explanation is there for such inexcusable golfing, especially on the part of a pro, except psychological masochism a la Poe's 'imp of the perverse'?
Well, Brian to the rescue, because from now on, we widen the hole to a 6-foot diameter or so, okay? Then we're all playing on the same psychological playing field at last, and we'll see who's the best golfer -- rather than seeing who's the least blatant victim of mind games. In short, adios and good riddance to the moral tortures of the game of golf!
(Besides, there's something disproportional about a game that starts out with a huge field, only to finish at a pinprick of a hole, scarcely large enough to accommodate the golf ball in the first place. If football were played so, the players would have to run through a narrow doorway in order to reach the in-zone.)
c.2010 Brian Quass, Alexandria, VA USA