I looove the game of golf…it is my passion, but it was a passion interrupted. I took up the game in my late teens and got reasonably good (a 5 handicap) by the age of 25. But I got frustrated that I never got any better and completely quit the game until my mid 30’s, when I met my future wife, Joan. One day she saw my clubs gathering dust in the corner of a closet and asked about the game. She expressed some interest and so I took her to a professional tournament. She had a great time and I was bitten by the bug, once again…lessons seemed in order.
We went to our local course and she took a series of lessons. I then found a pro who would work with the both of us (for me lessons are cheaper than therapy). That was 20 years ago and we have each been taking one lesson a month, ever since. But, sadly, I can never get her to play with me, because of her Minerva complex.
OK…so back to Minerva. The great Seal of the State of California has the image of the Roman goddess of wisdom, Minerva, at its center. According to Roman mythology, Minerva was the daughter of Jupiter. She sprang, a full adult, from the forehead of Jupiter. California, like Minerva, sprang full born as a state without ever having to go through the childhood of being a territory. And that’s what Joan wants from her golf game.
Golf is a game that requires a lot of practice, and playing, just to be average. Joan doesn’t like to practice and she doesn’t want to play with strangers…unless she is reasonably good…which she won’t be unless she practices and plays, which…well, you get the picture. Like Minerva, she wants to be a full fledged average golfer without going through the “beginner” stage.
And so, the only time she will play is when we play in an annual family tournament that friends put on, or when we are on vacation and we go to some expensive resort course where we can play alone.
Many women complain about being golf widows. Minerva…Uh, er…Joan need not suffer that fate. I would love to have her out there with me…at least once in the while.
