FARM LIFE FROM A FARM WIFE: Golf course beckons with a cry of ‘Fore!’

“Fore!” The one-word warning was heard loud and clear, most recently on the links of the beautiful 18-hole golf course situated along the pond in scenic Marion. While this particular warning was not voiced (this time) by yours truly, I’ve been known to holler it every now and again.

Golfing for me was a foreign term, reserved only for those who knew what they were doing, exact opposite of me. Golf etiquette was uncharted territory, so when asked to join a women’s golf league way back in the 1970s, I cringed.

From USGA.org, I learned about Francis Quimet, not a “gentleman” but a humble, working-class underdog, never anticipated to win at a game only the rich could afford. He unexpectedly won the 1913 U.S. Open at The Country Club in Brookline, Massachusetts. Quimet was an amateur, playing against two British veterans, beating them at their own game. This man changed the game forever, bringing golf to public courses, exposing the game to the working class citizen.

“I don’t know the first thing about golf,” I had wailed to my friend.

“That’s OK. We’re out there to have fun and get some exercise!” This gal worked across the street from me in what was, at that time, the Cantwell Clinic/Pharmacy. I was working at Shamoco Ford. This was before kids and just after marrying my farmer husband. We met Wednesdays after work at Pine Hills Golf Course in Gresham.

Every week I doggedly persevered, gleaning golf etiquette by watching. Don’t be the slowest player, respect other people’s time, repair the ground you play on, be quiet, don’t stand in the line of sight on the green — so much is common sense, a do-unto-others sort of attitude. Every week, I watched and learned and practice makes perfect. Sort of. Almost weekly, my ball got a bath; there was a hole with not quite a full-length pond placed strategically (i.e. mentally challenging) before the green. During my play, the sound of “Fore!” was heard alongside the splash of “plunk.”

I was worm-burning my tee-off shots so terribly that an opposing player suggested I use a four-iron instead of a driver. For me, my woods seem clunky and the handle too long, feeling awkward in my hand. Teeing off with a four-iron dramatically improved my game. I didn’t hit a terribly long shot, but at least it was high and straight down the fairway.

As well, she suggested I link my pointer finger of my left hand with my right hand’s pinkie finger, making more of a solidarity-type grip. This also helped my game. Because of their tutelage, at our end-of-season dinner I was handed the “Most Improved” award. Let’s face it, there was no place to go but up.

Meanwhile, my husband took golf up as well. Eventually, we bought clubs and before the kids came, hit the links around the area with my sister and her husband, always learning as we went. Alpine Golf Course in Door County was one of the most beautiful clubs we golfed back in the day.

A couple of years ago, my husband bought a different set of clubs and then last Christmas I received a brand new set complete with a heather-gray, turquoise and white trimmed golf bag. (Hey, it’s all about the pretty.) We had our tools; now we just needed to use them.

After years of self-exile from the game with only sporadic attempts (due to farming and raising kids), my husband and I decided this year to join a Thursday night scramble league at J&B Clover Green, located at 521 Mavis Road in Marion. This course has recently been purchased by Dave and Danee Joerres and Pat and Mindy Bailey who are extremely patron-friendly.

They plan on methodically renovating the grounds and offer great food in the clubhouse. Their comprehensive website is https://www.clovergreensgolfcourse.com where golfers can book a tee-time, peruse the restaurant menu, view leagues and much more. Check it out.

Tad Velte helped to organize the Thursday night scramble; he’s just the best. Every night a portion of the fee is put toward hole prizes. There are 24 teams altogether. We’ve reconnected with people we’d known years ago and have met new people. Everyone is so friendly and simply enjoys golfing this beautiful course.

Because this spring has held some challenging weather, we’ve golfed through a few tough conditions. Our first outing we had to layer up. I felt like an overstuffed marshmallow. By the end of the course, my knee caps were shaking I was so cold; one time we battled wind gusts.

Another afternoon we teed off at 3 p.m. to beat the rain and on the second hole it started raining. My fresh perm fuzzed up to pin-curl status and I looked like a drowned rat, but we finished the round. My husband, walking into the clubhouse, received a standing ovation.

Golf can be challenging and intimidating, but also fun. We are out there together, meeting new people and slowly but surely improving, with a few less resounding echoes of “Fore!”

(“So whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God.” 1 Corinthians 10:31)

Kay Reminger was born and raised on a dairy farm, and she married her high school sweetheart, who happened to farm for a living in Leopolis. Writing for quite a few years, she remains focused on the blessings of living the ups and downs of rural life from a farm wife’s perspective.