By Chris Parsons
My alarm goes off at 5 a.m. In front of me, I have a walk to a subway station, a one hour and 15-minute subway ride, an anxious wait to see if an Uber happens to be near the final subway stop, then a 15-minute Uber ride. All for a tee time five hours in the future. Golfing in New York City is certainly not easy, and runs in stark contrast to the 10-minute drives through the Philadelphia suburbs for the rounds of my youth. This was not just any morning tee time. It was a Wednesday during the fall of 2020, and I’d made a leap in the beginning of the year to attempt to get back into some competitive amateur golf events.
I’d had nothing more than a solid high school golf career and played in some local junior golf tournaments occasionally in the summers during those years. I started playing golf early in my life in backyards and driving ranges with my grandfather and Dad. I continued to play more and more in my middle school years with my friends at a scruffy, public 9-hole, par 30 course that we absolutely loved. As a freshman trying out for our high school’s golf team, my best friend and I had tied for the last open spot on the team. The coach told us to head to the first tee where we would have a playoff for the last roster spot. After a few minutes of anxiously waiting on the tee, the coach returned and told us that he decided that he would put us both on the team — no playoff needed. We were ecstatic, and after many rounds, matches, and hours of practice together over the next few years we both became key members of the team. But golf fell by the wayside as I went through college, graduated, and moved to New York City to pursue a career in business. Over the last few years, though, I’d begun to play more with my Dad when I returned home to the Philadelphia suburbs every few weeks, and I felt my love and passion for the game of golf coming back. After further reconnecting with the game through podcasts, watching professional golf tournaments, reading, and looking back for all the information I could find on my late grandfather’s college golf career in the 1950s, I eventually found myself more enthralled with the game than I ever was in my junior golf days. After doing some research, in early 2019, I joined an e-club through the Metropolitan Golf Association, began to develop a handicap again, and set a goal for myself to enter some amateur golf tournaments through the MGA in 2020.
After signing up for the e-club, I immersed myself in the game and played as much as my schedule allowed – weekends with my Dad in Pennsylvania, and friends back home and in New York. Once my swing started to feel natural again, I focused on improving my game through much better course management and maturity than I ever displayed as a junior golfer. Contrary to the trends in current professional golf, I found I was no longer as interested in how far I hit each of my clubs. I was paying more attention to playing smart once I got in trouble, aiming at the middle of greens, and doing my best to avoid double bogeys each round. By the end of the golf season in 2019, I had established my handicap in the mid-single digits. That handicap gave me eligibility into a few tournaments run by the Metropolitan Golf Association in 2020. On one hand, I was thrilled with my plan to be out playing golf again. But on the other hand, I was growing increasingly anxious about teeing it up in a competitive environment again. The last competitive golf event I played in had been about 10 years ago at my high school league championship, where I choked in a playoff to advance to districts. While I was just looking to play in the events to enjoy myself and see new courses, I was nervous about embarrassing myself, looking out of place, or suffering through a complicated rules situation.
But at the beginning of 2020, I took the plunge and signed up for three events for the 2020 season. Throughout the beginning of 2020, I continued to keep playing and loving the game of golf again. But I couldn’t shake the anxiety. I constantly texted with a friend, who is an assistant PGA professional at a club in the Philadelphia area and played Division 1 college golf. I trust his wisdom when it comes to all things golf, and I would often look to him for assurances that I would have fun in the tournaments and that I wouldn’t embarrass myself. He kept telling me that I would be fine and to just worry about my own game, enjoy myself, and to just take it one shot at a time. As my first tournament approached, I was thrilled to have the opportunity to be out competing in an organized golf tournament on a beautiful golf course but still nervous about the day -- especially the first tee shot.
The day of my first tournament came around, and I went through the usual production that playing golf in New York City entails: packing all your food and water into your bag, walking through crowds on the tight city sidewalks with your clubs, getting on a train, waiting for an Uber in an unfamiliar suburb, then walking up the driveway of the golf course with just the clubs on your back. The day of the first tournament also happened to be a 100-degree day in the middle of the summer, and I was carrying about 2 gallons of water and food for my full day expedition back into tournament golf.
Once at the course, I walked over to the driving range, took a few swings — and to my relief, realized none of the other players were paying any attention to me. After an hour or so of warming up on the range and putting green, I was next on the tee. Fortunately, I felt a lot less nervous than I thought I would be standing over my first tee shot and managed to hit a solid drive that bounded just barely into the left rough. After that, I was off. And to my surprise, I found myself having a blast competing on a course in perfect condition and being able to play in a competitive round of golf with other like-minded golfers. After finishing up on the 18th green, I was physically and mentally drained. I put up a respectable score and didn’t end up realizing any of my pre-tournament fears. I loved having a scorecard to show for my round, and I couldn’t wait to play in my next tournament.
Throughout the summer, I kept playing a couple times a month on the weekends when I could, and I continued reading and watching as much golf as I could. I was in constant contact with my friend, the assistant pro, discussing our golf swings, the happenings on the professional golf tours, and courses that we’ve played throughout our lives. I was so happy to be connected with the game of golf again. It felt like I opened up a whole new world that provided endless hours of entertainment to me in my time outside of work.
Then the fall came around, and I was up at 5 a.m., getting ready for my final tournament of the year: the Long Island Mid-Amateur at Inwood Country Club. I was relishing in the history of the course, the site of the 1921 PGA Championship won by Walter Hagen, and the site of Bobby Jones’ first U.S. Open victory in 1923. After a nervy first tee shot, I ended up playing one of my better rounds of the last few years and finished in the top third in a field of a hundred or so players. Had the event not been shortened from a two-day, 36-hole event to a one-day, 18-hole event due to weather, I would have made the cut to go onto the second day. Throughout the round, I soaked in the beauty of the pristine course as it wound along the water. I enjoyed the company of my playing partner and appreciated how professionally the event was run.
After walking off of the 18th green, and waiting to begin my journey back to my apartment in Manhattan, I was struck with the feelings of how happy I was that I went out of my comfort zone and decided to sign up for some competitive golf events after a 10-year break. I thought of how easy it would have been to just cancel my registrations, due to fears of embarrassing myself on the first tee or sticking out as someone who didn’t play college golf. Instead, I had great memories from the events, and I dove deep back into reading about the game and following the professional game closely. Now in these dark winter months, I’m looking forward to all the rounds ahead with my Dad and friends, future tournaments and adventures at different courses, and all the other wonderful ways that I enjoy the game.
Chris Parsons is a suburban Philadelphia transplant living and working in New York City. He is an avid fan of all Philadelphia sports teams and all things golf (except equipment reviews). He writes about golf at his Medium site, and on Twitter at @cparsons981.
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