Fore!

A nostalgic narrator recalls the first glimpse of golf as a lanky boy wandering far beyond his home, stumbling upon a plump gentleman battling a tiny white ball with wooden clubs. That early encounter blossoms into a witty meditation on how the game has spread from solitary fields to bustling suburbs, where every middle‑aged gentleman now wields the same iron and wood with a chorus of familiar, exaggerated exclamations. The prose captures the charm of a pastime that has become both a social ritual and a source of endless banter.

From there, the essay turns its sharp eye to the notorious “slow foursome”—four respectable, well‑to‑do men whose methodical, almost ceremonial approach to each shot turns a round into a patient endurance test. Their deliberate swings, endless practice strokes, and collective reluctance to yield the fairway paint a vivid portrait of golf’s most infuriating characters, inviting listeners to laugh at the absurdities that can haunt any round.