The eighth will always be my first
By Rosanne Michie
Pardon me for shamelessly bragging, but I birdied the eighth hole in my first ever round of golf with our beginner’s group this morning!
Sadly, I have been reliably told to enjoy the moment, as there’s apparently plenty of heartache in store if golf is to be my new love interest.
I am something of a sporting monogamist – that is, tennis has been my Number One Sporting Significant Other, since I was nine years old.
Sure, I’ve played the field. Netball, athletics, some meaningless triathlons. And in recent years I’ve developed a crush on open water swimming. But, despite my fervor, it remains unrequited. I still like swimming more than it likes me.
But one snapped achilles tendon, several ankle surgeries, a reduction of parental duties, the freedom of semi-retirement – and advancing age – has nudged me to today’s beginner’s class at 13Th Beach on Victoria’s Bellarine.
Perhaps more influential when deciding to finally dip my toe in the golfing pool was one of life’s big and nagging questions: Perhaps I am now boring enough for golf?
So, I’ve signed up for a six-month course.
It hasn’t been what you’d call love at first sight. Our matchmaker, the resident and perpetually cheerful coach Scotty, starts us out slowly. Treat ‘em mean, keep ‘em keen.
Three weeks shuffling between the putting and other practice greens to learn about the chip. Followed by one whole mindless hour devoted to getting out of a bunker.
Something about drawing a line in the sand. And then more mysterious again, apparently you don’t even hit the ball. You have to actually miss the ball …
Why then was it a fail when I connect so hard the little bugger goes flying and people start ducking and yelling ‘fore’?
'I have to be honest,’ I confess to a classmate. ‘The jury is out. I’m not sure me and golf are a match made in heaven.’
‘Same,' he whispers to me guiltily, as he sprays sand over us both.
I’m starting to get the gist - like some previous loves lost - golf is very strange.
Things look up momentarily when Scotty steers us to the practice range. Some of my tennis muscle memory kicks in and natural concepts of weight transferral, hip rotation, head position and relaxing at the point of impact make a bit of sense.
While I completely miss a few, I also manage to connect to some. A couple of them actually soar. I strike just enough to keep a little flirtation alive.
But then I try a bit on the side.
It’s too hard to get to the course between weekly classes, but I have heard about these fabulous Spornia golf nets. Turns out they are a great way to sneak in some practice. I hear they’re excellent for experienced golfers but I found the net is fab for a beginner like me to refine my strokes.
So then comes this morning.
Trying my hand at nine holes on the par three course. My first ever round.
Like most first dates, it starts slowly. But I am enjoying getting out, the fresh air, birds and company of my classmates.
I am warming to the competitive and social part. While not exactly getting better, with each hole I seem to be getting less crap.
And then we get to the eighth. My drive miraculously lands on the green, but about 25 feet from the pin (like my lingo?)
Scotty and my new mates are standing by, giving me a few suggestions about how to approach the putt. Lovely and all as they are, not one single one of them believes I can land it.
But like all unlikely unions, the chemistry is right. God damn, the little bugger rolls confidently off my club and boldly straight into the hole.
Shhh, don’t tell anyone, but I am such a GF (Golfing Virgin) I have to be told what a birdie even is!
There it is. I’m not sure if me and golf are a couple yet. Not sure golf is a keeper. Although the flush of early romance… it’s there.
And I won’t forget - the eighth will always be my first!
Author bio
Rosanne Michie doesn’t have a doctorate in do-gooding. She is probably just like you. She gets stuck. She f#cks up. She gets distracted chasing shiny things.
But she is a storyteller. And she is relatable.
Rosanne had a long and interesting journalistic career - once interviewing Great Train Robber Ronald Biggs in Rio de Janeiro - worked in tennis, and has done the corporate slog as a change consultant.
One thing she learnt? Change is scary and uncomfortable at first, but there are ways to make it possible.
How exactly? Aim low! Lose the quest for perfection, lower the bar and see how great your life can be.
Rosanne’s new book, Change Your Life in 10 Minutes is packed with easy-to-digest information and 10-minute life hacks that can help transform your life. One of them should probably include hitting a few golf balls ...
