Somewhere along the way, recreational golf got way too serious.

A guy shoots 104 on Saturday, spends Sunday watching swing videos, buys a new driver on Monday and walks onto the course the following weekend expecting to look like Scottie Scheffler.

Then the first tee happens.

The drive goes 60 yards right. There’s a breakfast ball. The breakfast ball goes 40 yards left.

Now he’s pissed.

Welcome to golf.

Golf is brutally difficult. That’s also part of what makes it great. The problem is that a lot of us have somehow convinced ourselves that we’re supposed to be good at something that’s incredibly hard to master.

You’re Probably Not as Good as You Think. Neither Are We.

Social media hasn’t exactly helped.

Open Instagram or TikTok and you’ll see perfect swings, 300-yard drives, hole-outs, course records and guys sticking wedges three feet from the pin.

What you don’t see nearly as often is the other 95% of the round.

The topped 5-iron.

The three-putt from 15 feet.

The drive that disappeared into somebody’s backyard.

The provisional that somehow went even farther into the woods than the first ball.

That’s golf too.

And for the overwhelming majority of people playing this game, there’s going to be a lot more of that than there will be 300-yard bombs down the middle.

That’s okay.

Your Saturday Morning Round Isn’t The Masters

There’s nothing wrong with wanting to improve.

Take lessons. Practice. Get fitted. Learn course management. Chase a lower handicap. Compete with your friends.

That’s part of the fun.

But there’s a difference between wanting to get better and refusing to enjoy golf until you’re good at it.

Most of us have jobs waiting for us Monday morning. Nobody from the PGA TOUR is hiding behind the 18th green waiting to hand us a contract.

We’re paying to play.

Think about how ridiculous that makes some of our behavior.

You waited all week for your tee time. You paid for the round. You’re outside with your friends for four hours. Maybe there’s a beer in the cupholder. This is supposed to be the part of the week you enjoy.

And somehow, one chunked wedge ruins the next three holes.

Why?

Bad Golf Makes Better Stories Anyway

Ask somebody about the perfectly normal 92 they shot six months ago.

They probably don’t remember much.

Ask them about the time their buddy shanked one into a golf cart, put four balls into the water on the same hole or celebrated a 30-foot putt before realizing it was for triple bogey?

They’ll tell that story for years.

The disasters become the memories.

That’s one of the things golf does better than almost any other sport.

You don’t actually have to be great at it to have a great time doing it.

Four friends with questionable swings can have just as memorable a round as four scratch golfers.

Probably more memorable, actually.

Golf Needs More Beginners, Not More Intimidation

There’s another side to all of this.

Golf can be intimidating as hell when you’re new.

There are rules you don’t know. Etiquette nobody explained. People behind you. People watching from the clubhouse. Expensive equipment everywhere. And somehow it feels like everyone else knows exactly what they’re doing.

They don’t.

Plenty of people avoid playing an actual course because they’re afraid they aren’t “good enough yet.”

That’s backwards.

You learn golf by playing golf.

Know basic etiquette. Keep pace. Take care of the course. Be respectful of the people around you.

After that?

Go play.

Shoot 80.

Shoot 100.

Shoot 130.

Just don’t turn a 4½-hour round into seven hours looking for every $4 golf ball you’ve ever hit.

Maybe We Should All Care a Little Less

Golf is one of the rare games you can spend your entire life chasing and never completely figure out.

That’s the hook.

One swing makes you question why you ever started playing.

The next one makes you think you’ve finally figured everything out.

You haven’t.

But you’ll come back next weekend convinced you have.

Maybe that’s what recreational golf needs more of: people trying to improve without pretending every round is a performance review.

Play the match.

Talk trash.

Try the stupid shot through the trees once in a while.

Laugh when it goes horribly wrong.

Celebrate the rare occasion when it somehow works.

Keep moving.

And remember why you booked the tee time in the first place.

Because years from now, you’re probably not going to remember whether you shot a 96 or a 101.

You’re going to remember who was in the cart next to you.

Golf is hard enough already. We don’t need to make enjoying it hard too.