Let’s face it folks….golf is a game/sport that, for the most part, is part of the world of the “privileged”. Now I don’t consider myself privileged, I am the son of a bus driver, who, at the height of his earning power carded a salary of $11,700 per YEAR. My mom was a secretary in a hospital (she went back to work after my sister went to school) and earned far less per year than that. I grew up in the Bronx, in a second floor walk up, shared a bedroom with my sister, the room divided by a pool table, and we “summered” in a bungalow in Far Rockaway for many years. My folks provided a life that was placid and comfortable, though money was always tight. Savings? Nope, what came in went out pretty quickly. They did end up buying a condo in Vermont after both my sister and I were grow and “gone” but never lived there, not even one day, as my dad was diagnosed with lung cancer (horrible medical care), and it was under a year from diagnosis to passing, and my mom, not ever having learned to drive, was incapable of living in a place where driving was a necessity.

So, you must be wondering now, how the hell does golf play into this…read on folks…read on…

It was the summer of right at the conclusion of 8th grade, in the Bronx, where my friend Jimmy Paturas asked if I was interested in golf…I had NO idea what it was, but said “sure” (since I had nothing better to do…Far Rockaway was still 3 years into the future and my folks had no money for camp so I spent my summers in the Bronx with whoever happened to be in the same boat). He had some clubs and off we walked to the local NYC Municipal course at Mosholu. We played 9 holes and I was HOOKED…I loved it (I was terrible with my baseball swing) but I LOVED it…there was something so special about it that I immediately asked for some clubs. My dad took me down to Honig’s Parkway (the local “everything” store) and bought me a Spaulding starter set …it consisted of a driver, and 1-3-5-7-9 irons and putter. It was the start of a life long attraction to a game that is impossible to be consistent at.

During my college years there were two summers where I played 6 days a week and got pretty good at it, but life got in the way and over the years the ability to play got lost….time, money, time, kids, time weight gain, arthritis , all took their toll. Age now had the biggest “impact” even with the new technology in the clubs etc…

After bariatric surgery I was invited to play in a fund raiser for the school I now teach part time in and I, again, fell in love with the game. Over the past three years I’ve bought new clubs and have taken to try to play 2-3 times per week. My game has improved (to the extent that it can at my age) to where I’m now disappointed when I shoot over 90, quite the change from a while ago. While golf is by no means a cheap game to play, when you dollar cost average it out a $50 round comes out to about $12 per hour…not shabby at all these days, and if I play locally and walk, it’s under $8 per hour. It’s competitive, it’s fun, and due to handicaps and various tee placements it allows all players to compete on level ground on the same “track”.

That brings me to the title….Golf in the time of Corona…(it’s been quite a long journey to get back to the title, no??) Every time I’ve gone out this year I realize the same thing: For about 4-5 hours I am in a bubble of “normality”, living life the way it has been since I finished 8th grade in 1966. The game naturally allows for distance, we are outside, the game is the same in 2020 as it was in 1966 (and as it was well before I discovered it). It is both serene and frustrating, most days it’s beautiful, the surroundings are always beautiful, the people you play with, whether they be friends or strangers, always sharing the same love of the chase, like the running community, always supportive and uplifting regardless of whether you are playing well or poorly.

These past few months have been tough on everyone, I don’t know how I would have done as well as I think I’ve done if it had not been for the ability to “escape” for a few hours a few times each week and return to those “thrilling” days of yesteryear and the bubble that is the golf course and the game itself.