Before I ever teed up a ball and took my first swing, it was clear, simply by listening to golf’s words, phrases, intonations and inflections, that it was destined to become my lifelong passion.
I still remember watching “Shell’s Wonderful World of Golf,” when I was instantly captivated by its language. Descriptive narrations, provided by British commentator Henry Longhurst, would express simple happenings in a most theatrical and intriguing manner. Longhurst would describe how a topped golf ball hit into a creek was “lashed in a most wicked manner and had regrettably found its watery grave.”
Golf’s language is complex, with a diverse vocabulary and many dialects. But is that any wonder? The language of golf accurately mirrors the sport it expresses. Golf is a sport steeped in history, tradition and courtesy, and much of its vocabulary is reflective of those qualities. But it is also a sport with a schizophrenic nature, in which a single misaligned shot can instantly evoke an entirely different dialect with its own vocabulary, accompanied by previously unseen moods, physical gestures and facial characteristics.
Terminology concerning rules violations can tell you much about a sport. Penalties in hockey, like elbowing, high-sticking, kneeing, slashing and spearing, are, at times, considered minor. Football players are called for encroachment, clipping, personal fouls and illegal use of hands. A five-year mandatory stint in the slammer might be more appropriate. Golf, with its violations for breaking off a twig from a tree, touching a grain of sand with your club or playing with more than 14 clubs, keeps it all in much better perspective. “You have the honor. I believe you are away. Watch as I address the ball …” How can you not love a sport with language like that?
Many other sports sound so barbaric and uncivilized. Take the field or playing surface as an example. Give me plush fairways and undulating greens over “the boards,” “the ice,” “the canvas” or “alleys and gutters” anytime. Wouldn’t you rather spend those moments, when not actually playing, relaxing on the verandah of a spacious clubhouse, or would you prefer to sit in the dugout, on the bench, in the corner or in the penalty box? After all, are we out there to have a good time, or are we participating for some punitive gratification?
If you want inner peace and relaxation, just think of these golf terms: “Strokes, loose impediments,” your eyes are getting heavy. “Rub of the green, casual water,” they’re beginning to close. “Provisional ball,” you’re getting sleepy. “Play it as it lies,” your eyelids are shutting. “The ball is at rest.” Zzzzzz …
Golf is complicated and can, at times, be extremely illogical. Beginning with the basic premise that the lower the score, the better the play, many of golf’s expressions and terms are not to be carelessly assumed. Better or best ball doesn’t refer to Callaway or Titleist, fairways are often unfair, woods are usually made of metal, and the nearest point of relief is not the closest restroom.
Now that you’re familiar with the nuances of the language of golf, the next time you’re out on the links, “pull the cover off the big dog, stick the peg in the ground, grip it and rip it, keep it out of the cabbage, avoid hitting a hosel rocket, stripe it onto the dance floor and roll your rock into the side door.” The time has come to not only walk the walk. Golf is so much more fun when we’re able to talk the talk.
Rich Bernstein is a resident of Sun City - Hilton Head. Rich has been experiencing the joy, challenges and frustrations of golf since his selection as the 6th player on his 5-player high school golf team.
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