Opinion & Analysis
Taking time to enjoy the game

There are times in life that prove monumental — moments of enlightenment that can alter perspective or outlook.
For golfers, maybe it’s a shot, or a swing thought. A feel, or a sound, when everything clicks, even for just a second. The moments are brief, but become etched in our memories to later summon upon.
Not too long ago, just before my round of golf was over and the night sky washed out the summer sun, I was lucky enough to experience one of these moments.
It was around 3:30 p.m. when I got the itch to play golf. A little late, but the golf gods were calling me (and I never want to make them upset). Maybe I still had enough time for 18 holes if I played fast enough.
My seventh floor apartment looks out onto the local muni in Honolulu called Ala Wai Golf Course. I hadn’t played it yet, but the tease of looking down at the course everyday for a year had gotten to be too much. It was time to play my “home” course for the first time.
A canal, no more than a chip shot wide, separates my apartment building from the clubhouse. I brushed the sand off my feet from the beach earlier that day and threw on socks, golf spikes and a wrinkled collared shirt (I don’t do laundry enough). With my golf bag slung on my shoulder, I navigated around the canal to the clubhouse.
Yes, it’s in my backyard, but it isn’t a terribly convenient course to play.
They claim it’s the most frequented golf course in the country (the Guinness Book of World Record agrees), averaging between 450 to 500 rounds per day. I was hoping to get in a quick 18 holes before it got dark, but teeing off at 4 p.m. on the most crowded course on earth, it was a long shot.
The starter asked if I wanted to join the foursome on the tee.
“Foursome?” I asked. With some astute mathematics I realized that would make our group a five-some; something was assuredly amiss.
“Uh, yeah, right over there,” he answered, gesturing toward the first tee. “You’ll be in the group behind those five gentleman.” My 18 hole goal was certainly audacious, but this I was not expecting.
A golfer’s mind and body need their fix no matter the situation, so I paid my greens fees and got in line behind the five men. I had time for a couple warm-up swings with two irons held together like a baseball player in the on-deck circle. I threw in some hamstring stretches for good measure. The 4:17 p.m. tee-time was strictly enforced for some reason. Surely it wasn’t to avoid a backup.
The inevitably slow pace of the round became surprisingly less noticeable as the round wore on. Waiting for 20-plus minutes on some holes gave our five-some time to converse, and actually get to know each other as more than just normal playing partners (by “normal” I mean: introduce yourselves on the first tee and forget each other’s names immediately, if not sooner).
Somewhere around No. 6, between the relentless waiting and intriguing conversation, I had actually lost track of my score. Over the course of a typical round, I know precisely where I stand in relation to par at all times.
I can’t say I was “in the zone,” however. To be considered in a zone you have to be playing well, and looking back I certainly wasn’t breaking the course record. It was more a zone of serenity, enjoying my surroundings and the company I kept.
Normally, a slow round of golf makes me impatient and irritated. I’m not sure why I’m in a rush, but I know I’m not the only golfer that feels this way. We love the game with a passion, so why are we in such a hurry?
That late-afternoon round was different.
Maybe it was because the pace was so slow that I was resigned to leisure, or maybe it was the beautiful sunset leaking through the Waikiki city skyline that put my mind at ease. Whatever it was, I was playing a round of golf and I didn’t know my score; a rare if not unprecedented feat.
My golf ball was safely aboard the ninth green (our last hole), and I waited patiently while my playing partners were chipping on. Not the hands on the hip “let’s hurry up” appearance of patient that golfers love, but rather, patient in the true sense of the word. My walk up to the green was peaceful. I noticed the palm trees and the feel of the grass, enjoying the last waking minutes of sunlight.
Then it happened, my moment of enlightenment — a moment that would signify the calmness I felt, and strive to feel within the game.
I noticed something that I never have in my golfing career — the sound of the Velcro strands separating from each other on my glove as I peeled them apart. It sent chills up my left arm.
I suppose my mind has never been quiet enough to hear that sound. It’s always been filled with an inner voice, screaming about swing-thoughts, doubts, frustrations or worries, especially walking up to the green on the finishing hole. Usually, I’m calculating how many putts I need to shoot a certain score, or how detrimental a three-putt would be to my round.
Why does a golfer’s mind become so singularly focused on score or outcome, and neglect the beauty of golf and the surroundings? Why is tranquility so infrequent?
That day was special — but it shouldn’t have been.
Golf is a game to be enjoyed, and we shouldn’t let our minds be trapped with negative thoughts and frustrations. Every round from here on out, when I hear the cringing sound of tiny strands of plastic ripping from one another on the last hole, I’ll remember to appreciate the gift of playing the beautiful game.
And if you must know, I missed a straight-in four-footer on No. 9: a three-putt and a 37. Maybe I should just make the putt next time (I guess our “moments” are indeed fleeting).
Opinion & Analysis
The 2 primary challenges golf equipment companies face

As the editor-in-chief of this website and an observer of the GolfWRX forums and other online golf equipment discourse for over a decade, I’m pretty well attuned to the grunts and grumbles of a significant portion of the golf equipment purchasing spectrum. And before you accuse me of lording above all in some digital ivory tower, I’d like to offer that I worked at golf courses (public and private) for years prior to picking up my pen, so I’m well-versed in the non-degenerate golf equipment consumers out there. I touched (green)grass (retail)!
Complaints about the ills of and related to the OEMs usually follow some version of: Product cycles are too short for real innovation, tour equipment isn’t the same as retail (which is largely not true, by the way), too much is invested in marketing and not enough in R&D, top staffer X hasn’t even put the new driver in play, so it’s obviously not superior to the previous generation, prices are too high, and on and on.
Without digging into the merits of any of these claims, which I believe are mostly red herrings, I’d like to bring into view of our rangefinder what I believe to be the two primary difficulties golf equipment companies face.
One: As Terry Koehler, back when he was the CEO of Ben Hogan, told me at the time of the Ft Worth irons launch, if you can’t regularly hit the golf ball in a coin-sized area in the middle of the face, there’s not a ton that iron technology can do for you. Now, this is less true now with respect to irons than when he said it, and is less and less true by degrees as the clubs get larger (utilities, fairways, hybrids, drivers), but there remains a great deal of golf equipment truth in that statement. Think about it — which is to say, in TL;DR fashion, get lessons from a qualified instructor who will teach you about the fundamentals of repeatable impact and how the golf swing works, not just offer band-aid fixes. If you can’t repeatably deliver the golf club to the golf ball in something resembling the manner it was designed for, how can you expect to be getting the most out of the club — put another way, the maximum value from your investment?
Similarly, game improvement equipment can only improve your game if you game it. In other words, get fit for the clubs you ought to be playing rather than filling the bag with the ones you wish you could hit or used to be able to hit. Of course, don’t do this if you don’t care about performance and just want to hit a forged blade while playing off an 18 handicap. That’s absolutely fine. There were plenty of members in clubs back in the day playing Hogan Apex or Mizuno MP-32 irons who had no business doing so from a ballstriking standpoint, but they enjoyed their look, feel, and complementary qualities to their Gatsby hats and cashmere sweaters. Do what brings you a measure of joy in this maddening game.
Now, the second issue. This is not a plea for non-conforming equipment; rather, it is a statement of fact. USGA/R&A limits on every facet of golf equipment are detrimental to golf equipment manufacturers. Sure, you know this, but do you think about it as it applies to almost every element of equipment? A 500cc driver would be inherently more forgiving than a 460cc, as one with a COR measurement in excess of 0.83. 50-inch shafts. Box grooves. And on and on.
Would fewer regulations be objectively bad for the game? Would this erode its soul? Fortunately, that’s beside the point of this exercise, which is merely to point out the facts. The fact, in this case, is that equipment restrictions and regulations are the slaughterbench of an abundance of innovation in the golf equipment space. Is this for the best? Well, now I’ve asked the question twice and might as well give a partial response, I guess my answer to that would be, “It depends on what type of golf you’re playing and who you’re playing it with.”
For my part, I don’t mind embarrassing myself with vintage blades and persimmons chasing after the quasi-spiritual elevation of a well-struck shot, but that’s just me. Plenty of folks don’t give a damn if their grooves are conforming. Plenty of folks think the folks in Liberty Corner ought to add a prison to the museum for such offences. And those are just a few of the considerations for the amateur game — which doesn’t get inside the gallery ropes of the pro game…
Different strokes in the game of golf, in my humble opinion.
Anyway, I believe equipment company engineers are genuinely trying to build better equipment year over year. The marketing departments are trying to find ways to make this equipment appeal to the broadest segment of the golf market possible. All of this against (1) the backdrop of — at least for now — firm product cycles. And golfers who, with their ~15 average handicap (men), for the most part, are not striping the golf ball like Tiger in his prime and seem to have less and less time year over year to practice and improve. (2) Regulations that massively restrict what they’re able to do…
That’s the landscape as I see it and the real headwinds for golf equipment companies. No doubt, there’s more I haven’t considered, but I think the previous is a better — and better faith — point of departure when formulating any serious commentary on the golf equipment world than some of the more cynical and conspiratorial takes I hear.
Agree? Disagree? Think I’m worthy of an Adam Hadwin-esque security guard tackle? Let me know in the comments.
@golfoncbs The infamous Adam Hadwin tackle ? #golf #fyp #canada #pgatour #adamhadwin ? Ghibli-style nostalgic waltz – MaSssuguMusic
Podcasts
Fore Love of Golf: Introducing a new club concept

Episode #16 brings us Cliff McKinney. Cliff is the founder of Old Charlie Golf Club, a new club, and concept, to be built in the Florida panhandle. The model is quite interesting and aims to make great, private golf more affordable. We hope you enjoy the show!
Opinion & Analysis
On Scottie Scheffler wondering ‘What’s the point of winning?’

Last week, I came across a reel from BBC Sport on Instagram featuring Scottie Scheffler speaking to the media ahead of The Open at Royal Portrush. In it, he shared that he often wonders what the point is of wanting to win tournaments so badly — especially when he knows, deep down, that it doesn’t lead to a truly fulfilling life.
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“Is it great to be able to win tournaments and to accomplish the things I have in the game of golf? Yeah, it brings tears to my eyes just to think about it because I’ve literally worked my entire life to be good at this sport,” Scheffler said. “To have that kind of sense of accomplishment, I think, is a pretty cool feeling. To get to live out your dreams is very special, but at the end of the day, I’m not out here to inspire the next generation of golfers. I’m not out here to inspire someone to be the best player in the world, because what’s the point?”
Ironically — or perhaps perfectly — he went on to win the claret jug.
That question — what’s the point of winning? — cuts straight to the heart of the human journey.
As someone who’s spent over two decades in the trenches of professional golf, and in deep study of the mental, emotional, and spiritual dimensions of the game, I see Scottie’s inner conflict as a sign of soul evolution in motion.
I came to golf late. I wasn’t a junior standout or college All-American. At 27, I left a steady corporate job to see if I could be on the PGA Tour starting as a 14-handicap, average-length hitter. Over the years, my journey has been defined less by trophies and more by the relentless effort to navigate the deeply inequitable and gated system of professional golf — an effort that ultimately turned inward and helped me evolve as both a golfer and a person.
One perspective that helped me make sense of this inner dissonance around competition and our culture’s tendency to overvalue winning is the idea of soul evolution.
The University of Virginia’s Division of Perceptual Studies has done extensive research on reincarnation, and Netflix’s Surviving Death (Episode 6) explores the topic, too. Whether you take it literally or metaphorically, the idea that we’re on a long arc of growth — from beginner to sage elder — offers a profound perspective.
If you accept the premise literally, then terms like “young soul” and “old soul” start to hold meaning. However, even if we set the word “soul” aside, it’s easy to see that different levels of life experience produce different worldviews.
Newer souls — or people in earlier stages of their development — may be curious and kind but still lack discernment or depth. There is a naivety, and they don’t yet question as deeply, tending to see things in black and white, partly because certainty feels safer than confronting the unknown.
As we gain more experience, we begin to experiment. We test limits. We chase extreme external goals — sometimes at the expense of health, relationships, or inner peace — still operating from hunger, ambition, and the fragility of the ego.
It’s a necessary stage, but often a turbulent and unfulfilling one.
David Duval fell off the map after reaching World No. 1. Bubba Watson had his own “Is this it?” moment with his caddie, Ted Scott, after winning the Masters.
In Aaron Rodgers: Enigma, reflecting on his 2011 Super Bowl win, Rodgers said:
“Now I’ve accomplished the only thing that I really, really wanted to do in my life. Now what? I was like, ‘Did I aim at the wrong thing? Did I spend too much time thinking about stuff that ultimately doesn’t give you true happiness?’”
Jim Carrey once said, “I think everybody should get rich and famous and do everything they ever dreamed of so they can see that it’s not the answer.”
Eventually, though, something shifts.
We begin to see in shades of gray. Winning, dominating, accumulating—these pursuits lose their shine. The rewards feel more fleeting. Living in a constant state of fight-or-flight makes us feel alive, yes, but not happy and joyful.
Compassion begins to replace ambition. Love, presence, and gratitude become more fulfilling than status, profits, or trophies. We crave balance over burnout. Collaboration over competition. Meaning over metrics.
Interestingly, if we zoom out, we can apply this same model to nations and cultures. Countries, like people, have a collective “soul stage” made up of the individuals within them.
Take the United States, for example. I’d place it as a mid-level soul: highly competitive and deeply driven, but still learning emotional maturity. Still uncomfortable with nuance. Still believing that more is always better. Despite its global wins, the U.S. currently ranks just 23rd in happiness (as of 2025). You might liken it to a gifted teenager—bold, eager, and ambitious, but angsty and still figuring out how to live well and in balance. As much as a parent wants to protect their child, sometimes the child has to make their own mistakes to truly grow.
So when Scottie Scheffler wonders what the point of winning is, I don’t see someone losing strength.
I see someone evolving.
He’s beginning to look beyond the leaderboard. Beyond metrics of success that carry a lower vibration. And yet, in a poetic twist, Scheffler did go on to win The Open. But that only reinforces the point: even at the pinnacle, the question remains. And if more of us in the golf and sports world — and in U.S. culture at large — started asking similar questions, we might discover that the more meaningful trophy isn’t about accumulating or beating others at all costs.
It’s about awakening and evolving to something more than winning could ever promise.
RER
Sep 4, 2013 at 4:23 pm
Bravo JJ. Everything I read about golf is about hurry. It seems to me that the golf industry may be catering to folks who think themselves to busy or important to spend 4 hours of their lives in leisure. These are the same people who stare into one screen or the other all day long. They text and tweet so much that by the time they get home their exhausted. They never give their minds a momententary respite. I am by nature a fast golfer, but if the round goes a little more than 4 hours then so be it. Try detaching from the high pace life and enjoy the greatest game. If they make the holes bigger then I will give up playing.
JJ
Aug 28, 2013 at 4:21 pm
I agree take your time and enjoy the game and the friends you are playing with. I get so sick of these guys who are playing a round like it’s a marathon race to be completed as quickly as possible. I abhor the pros and golf announcers who advocate play it forward and faster.
phil
Aug 28, 2013 at 12:01 pm
we were taking the time to enjoy the game until some nimrod decided to muster the troops with the “while we’re young” chants.
Mike
Aug 27, 2013 at 8:03 am
Nice write up. I guess those times when we connect with the game are precious. I try to remind myself when I first started with golf and how excited I was to play. Now with a reasonable HCP and good gear in the bag I should just enjoy the game and be glad to have the time to play.