My Boyfriend Made Me Do It (and now I’m hooked)

I like to think of myself as pretty athletic. I mean, I’ve played volleyball, I’ve run a few 5Ks, and I’ve got a competitive streak that’s borderline unhealthy when it comes to pickleball. So when my boyfriend—who grew up on immaculate Northeastern fairways—suggested we take up golf together, I thought, Sure, I’ve got this. How hard can it be?

Turns out, golf is very hard.

Let’s start with the basics: the first time I stood over the ball on the tee, it felt like the entire course stopped to stare at me. My boyfriend tried to give me some pointers, which is cute until you realize every “tip” adds another layer of confusion. Keep your head down. Bend your knees. Rotate your hips. Don’t swing too hard. Relax. RELAX?! I’ve got four people behind me waiting to tee off, and I’m pretty sure I just violated some ancient golf etiquette by sneezing too loudly near the green.

Speaking of, I have a B.S. in Economics from a top university, and the rules and decorum of golf is the most complicated curriculum I’ve ever attempted to learn. It’s a minefield of unspoken dos and don’ts. Did you know that there’s a whole ritual for marking your ball on the green? Or that when you’re in the bunker you better not rest your club head on the sand or forget to rake afterwards lest you’re in the mood for a stern talking to? And how am I supposed to know which club you’re referring to when you say "grab the pitching wedge"? I kept waiting for the golf gods to descend and smite me for all of my sins.

But the real kicker? Golf made me feel completely unathletic. I mean, I can throw a football, shoot a basketball, even hit a softball. But golf? I’ve never felt more uncoordinated in my life. My drives slice like a loaf of Wonder Bread. My putts miss the hole with such precision it’s almost impressive. And those little chip shots? Let’s just say the gopher in Caddyshack left the course in better shape than my hacks.

And then there’s the fashion. I wasn’t ready for how much effort it takes just to look like you belong on the course. Golf apparel is not something that just naturally accrues in one’s wardrobe as a middle-class girly who has never set foot in a country club locker room.  Collared shirts, tailored skirts, tasteful hats.  I’m over here trying to figure out why I can’t just wear my favorite leggings and call it a day.

Honestly, by the end of my first round, I was exhausted, slightly sunburned, and very aware of how much better everyone else was. But here’s the thing: I keep going back. Partly because I’m stubborn, partly because it’s fun to spend time with my boyfriend (even if he’s currently leagues ahead of me), and partly because of those rare, magical moments when I actually hit the ball well and feel like I might not be completely hopeless.

And you know what’s made it a little easier? Balls Out Golf. Their gear feels like it’s designed for people like me: folks who want to enjoy the game without getting bogged down in all the seriousness. Their stuff is affordable, fun, and honestly way more comfortable than the “official golf uniform” you’re apparently supposed to wear. Plus, let’s face it, butchering a shot is way funnier when your sporting cheeky double entendres.

So, if you’re out there trying to survive your first few rounds or just looking for a way to make golf a little less intimidating, check them out. They get that not everyone grew up with a country club membership and a flawless swing.  

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a 3pm tee time and 11 balls to lose in rough (thank god, with Balls Out, I can afford it!).