Can one both love and hate something at the same time? Is it possible to detest something enough for it to invoke intense anger, yet still remain a slave to its euphoric bliss? The question will undoubtedly receive a myriad of responses from different people, but for me, it is a resounding yes. That is because I play the game of golf.

Golf is a sport seen by many as a relaxing jaunt through a park: a simple stroll interrupted only by a few leisurely swings of a club. It is a game played by old, fat, and primarily white men. The sport is expensive and takes a long time to play. But these problems are far outweighed by golfs chief issue: its difficulty. Hitting a ball with a club at 110 miles per hour to a target 500 yards away that’s only 4 1/4 inches wide is a daunting task to say the least. Not to mention the fact that mis-hitting the shot by a third of an inch can send the ball 50 yards in either direction. However, millions of people every year acknowledge these facts and keep coming back. How could that be?

While difficulty is the sport’s inherent drawback, it is also one of golf’s most alluring traits. Golf isn’t just simply hard. It is imperfectible. That is why Michael Jordan and Wayne Gretzky became fanatics as soon as their playing careers ended. Being that they had mastered their own respective sport, they looked for a new avenue to release their competitive fire and passion. They found it in golf because the sport is a never-ending search for perfection. There is always something that can be tweaked or improved. A player could hit the ball flawlessly from the tee and the fairway but if they putt poorly it won’t matter. A. A. Milne once said, “Golf is so popular simply because it is the best sport at which to be bad.” Even though the sport is difficult, the challenge of constant improvement is a thrill for good and bad players alike.

Golf is equal parts addictive and maddening. It is a game in which high technical skill is required to be successful. However, it is at the same time totally worthless without an iron-clad mental game. A flawless pre-shot game plan can be ruined by one fleeting thought (“don’t hit it right”) that crosses one’s mind just before his/her swing. This aspect of golf makes it so different than sports defined by physicality. Golfers are on the course for over 4 hours at a time so getting lost in the adrenaline and excitement of the game, as many do in sports such as football or basketball, is almost impossible. A player spends his time spread out across acres and acres of sprawling terrain, yet the real battle is fought in the 6 inches between the ears.

To play golf and maintain sanity at the same time is not always easy. A 300 yard tee shot counts the same as a two-inch putt. Basketball, football, and baseball (among other sports) all play on a court or surface with designated lines and markings. Golf is played on a forever-changing field of battle. One never sees the same golf course twice. Wind, pin position, and course conditioning are among the numerous factors that can vary wildly from day to day. For example, take hole number 16 at New Prague Golf Club: One day I played the hole into a 25 mile an hour wind that left a long approach from a bad lie to a hole location tucked on the very edge of the green, a brutally tough shot. The next day, it played 25 miles an hour downwind with a pin right in the middle of the green. I put my tee shot right next the green and made the hole a cakewalk. Yet, even after playing this particular hole hundreds of times, I still haven’t even touched the surface on the variety of different ways that hole can play. Due to these shifting variables in golf, the idea of “fair” for a player goes out the window. An unlucky bounce or gust of wind can send a round abruptly in the wrong direction. A golfer fights not only the course, but Mother Nature herself. And that lady tends to get pretty pissed. This can often be harmful to the scorecard, but when approached the right way, it is one of the true joys of the sport. Golfers are not race car drivers, engaged in a mad dash towards the finish line. No, golfers are boat captains, desperately keeping the ship afloat amidst a storm. We know that permanent victory is never achievable, but that only makes the brief moments in the sun that much more rewarding.

Golf can produce euphoric highs that no drug can ever match. In 2015, I went into the section 2AAA golf tournament with only a dream. That dream was to go to the state tournament. For those two days I had neither expectations nor anxiety. Every golfer, from a weekend warrior to Tiger Woods, has spent part of a round “in the zone.” Focus narrows, heart rate decreases, and the round begins to blur together. In this state the constant stress and pressure of golf dissolves, even if only for a few holes. For those two glorious days in May of 2015, golf was simple. Tee shot down the middle. Iron shot to the middle of the green. Two putts and onto the next hole. Then suddenly, I ran out of holes to play and my family was walking towards me to give me a hug and celebrate that I was going to the state tournament. Even though I had spent thousands of hours practicing and hundreds more picturing what achieving my dream would feel like, that scene was still the most surreal and paralyzingly joyous moment of my life.

Golf is a game that beats you down. It is an unstoppable force that does everything in its power to force a player to shrink from the fight and bow out. But every once in awhile, a player gets a chance to be an immovable object. On those two days in 2015, I was given my chance. For 36 holes I stood my ground and for the first time in my life I came out on top. Numerous emotions flooded me in that moment, but above all one reigned supreme: bliss.

A year after scaling the mountain and advancing to the state tournament, I rolled right into the 2016 section tournament with a new attitude. Gone was the relaxed and chill demeanor. Instead, my expectations skyrocketed. Just going to state was no longer enough, for the season to be a success, for me to be a success, I had to contend with the best players in Minnesota. Any other result would be a crushing failure. As a result my game was nervy and tentative. After a disappointing score of 79 the first day, I figured I would need to shoot somewhere between 70-72 in the second round to advance to state. I shot 83. When one invests a large part of himself into something that fails, there is always a certain level of disappointment that comes with it. Golf, however, has a special talent for exacting an especially excruciating pain on its victims.

In the aftermath of those rough couple days, I saw a new angle on why golf is such a beautiful game, and why so many love it as I do. The reason that I never fully understood was that yes, I will always strive to shoot the lowest score possible, but I as a person am not defined by a number on a scorecard. Golf is such an all-consuming sport that this fact is easy to overlook, but when fully realized, there is no more liberating feeling. No longer am I paralyzed by the fear that my self-worth will be damaged by a poor round or tournament. I am free to not play timid or scared. I can just play.

Of course, I would be a fool to believe that golf will no longer be a challenge for me. There will still be the days that will test me mentally, physically, and emotionally. Like anything else worth doing, golf is hard. The key is to not lose your own happiness in the search of that unattainable perfection. Because if you do not enjoy the climb, the peak will not be worth it. Many would agree with Mark Twain’s description of golf as, “a good walk spoiled.” I know that on many days I certainly do. Unfortunately, more than any other sport or activity I’m aware of, golf has the ability to always rope you back in. A player could play 17 holes full of bad shots and even harsher language, but when he flushes his tee shot right down the middle on 18, he can’t help but be excited for his next round.

The microcosms of golf can teach a person a lot about life. It teaches that with a short memory you will never carry anger long. It teaches that no matter how good you get, there’s always someone a little bit better than you, and that that’s ok. And finally it teaches that when a good thing comes around, enjoy it for all it is worth. There are times I hate golf and wonder why I invest so much of myself into the game. But then I flush my drive down the middle, and in that brief instant while the ball is in mid-flight, I am back on the boat having weathered the storm, seeing nothing but clear skies ahead.