This weekend I was lucky to rest in a luxury hotel next to a golf course. I have never played this sport and an injure in my left ankle stopped me to have the chance of starting this time.
Once there, I went into shock. You see, I do not know much about this sport, except about the Open that is ocassionally broadcasted on television in which it appears burly golfers with gentleman gestures and an air of triumph.
But there was none. Instead, throughout the weekend I saw mature men and women who, wearing polo shirts and plaid shorts, bustled from side to side of the lawn.
They were, mostly, European marriages in years (men with guts and pure and women with visor and expensive brand sunglasses) who moved from one place to another with no apparent hurry. And as much as I looked at them, I could not see how and when they “played sport”.
I know, people say that golf is walking so much because of the enormous areas between holes, but the fact is that they moved in those two-seater electric cars. So the effort was reduced to plant their buttocks on the seat and activate the muscle of the right foot to press the accelerator.
They can also tell me that bustle with steel golf bag includes an effort but the fact is that the bags currently lead wheels and an electric motor to pull them.
Instead, it’s funny, the terrace bar of the golf club was full of the “athlets” who drank beer and took snacks in the warm September sun.
I do not argue that golf is a sport, but it is certainly one of the most comfortable sports I know.