The Birth of the Game

            Many folks believe the venerable game of golf was invented in Scotland, on the marshlands known eponymously as “links” nowadays (i.e., land that linked the lower wetlands abutting various seas and firths with higher, dry land.  St. Andrews, the course generally accepted as the home of golf, still serves as the common area by which the locals cross from the town to the beach bordering on the gloriously-named Firth of Forth.) 

His head started it all!

            Other theories abound.  One has it that Native Americans developed the game, then were rushed off the golf courses by the white man whose manifest destiny was to secure desirable tee times wherever possible in this great nation of ours.  Others trace the game to the Norsemen, who while plundering Europe would knock balls of ice around with horns (or other round body parts) of reindeer.  The prehistoric paintings found in the caves of Lascaux show Neanderthal cavemen worshipping the goddess of fertility by offering burnt offerings of stick-like objects bearing a distinct similarity to cleeks and mashie niblicks of a later era. (Smarter than cavemen, I don’t think so – the commercials are right!)   J.R.R. Tolkien, the genius who brought us the Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit, described the birth of the game in the first chapter of The Hobbit thusly;  “Old Took's great-grand-uncle Bullroarer...was so huge (for a hobbit that is) that he could ride a horse. He charged the ranks of the goblins of Mount Gram in the Battle of The Green Fields, and knocked their king Golfimbul's head clean off with a wooden club. It sailed a hundred yards through the air and went down a rabbit hole, and in this way the battle was won, and the game of Golf invented at the same moment.”

            Some even surmise that interplanetary alien beings brought the game with them from other planets.  These visitors from outer space, obviously from more advanced societies, landed in Scotland, were feted by the locals with heaps of haggis, after which the aliens hightailed it to the safety of space in a gaseous haze, leaving behind the tools of the game as a means of torturing humans in the same fashion as they had been tormented at the Scottish dinner table, presumably sans single malt whiskey, or they would have never left.  (The Truth Is Out There!)

            But actually the game has been around since the dawn of man.  The Golf Album Movie will recount in detail the earliest history of the game.  In the meantime, suffice it to say that our earliest ancestors, often depicted as of smaller brains and much lesser intelligence, were smart enough to be the first upright walkers to be addicted to the game:

Homo Dufferus Played Through Here

            Think Olduvai Gorge, a million years B.C.  The hot arid wasteland surrounds a rocky watering hole.  The dinosaurs are long gone, but many prehistoric animals lounge in the area around surrounding the pool.  Man's ancestor, Australopithecus, is most prominent.  The large hominids sit in a group, the mothers watching their babies.  The larger males wander around, looking for trouble. 

            One monkey finds a stick, and begins to pound the ground with it.  Beginning to realize its potential, he gets excited, raises it in air and beats the ground, jumping up and down, with the music from Thus Spach Zarathustra slowly rising in the background.  He crushes the skeletal skull of a dead animal, pulverizing it into smithereens.  Proudly he finishes and looks around for the acclaim of his discovery.  But there is no reaction from crowd around watering hole - a few verbal raspberries, several shots of pink monkey rears pointed at the display of violence.  

            Perplexed, the monkey calms down and sits with stick still in hand.  Looking down, he sees a smallish round rock in front of him.  He begins to tap it back and forth, then slowly begins to tap it forward.  The swing gets longer, more rhythmic.  Then, in a moment of inspiration, he hits the rock/ball with a full beautiful golf swing.  Monkeys go nuts, jumping up and down, doing somersaults.  The group gathers round in gallery as he tees up another rock.  Periscopes pop up in back of crowd.  One monkey picks up sticks lying around and carries them like a caddy.  Another monkey utters guttural noises which sound suspiciously like "You Da Man!".  The crowd applauds furiously as the monkey hits another perfect drive out into the desert.  As the group walks off down the “fairway”,  a triple decker driving range can be seen in the background with chimpanzees on all levels pounding away.  And the rest, as they say, is history.

On the other hand,  forget the parody!

             To fully enjoy the following parody, jump forward to a more recent era circa 1986 and picture the late, great  Robert Palmer, in homage to his pioneering music video,  crooning before a foursome of gorgeous models bedecked in pink and white see-through golf gear from head to toe, including plus fours, swinging various unfettered body parts as well as clubs somewhat in rhythm to the beat.

ADDICTED TO GOLF

(Words and Music to Addicted to Love 
by Robert Palmer;

Copyright claimant Bungalow Music N.V.)

The sprinklers on, but you're not home

Your mind is not your own

Your hiney sweats, your booty shakes

Another round is what it takes

You can't eat, you can't sleep

If there's rough, you're in deep

Your grip is tight, you can't breathe

Another round is all you need

Oh, you like to think you're immune

to the stuff, oh yeah

            Its closer to the truth to say you can't get enough

            You know you're gonna have to face it -

            You're addicted to golf

You see the signs, but you can't read

Your swing's at different speeds

Your heart beats in double time

Another loop, and you'll be mine

A one-track mind; you can't be saved

Eighteen holes is all you crave

If there's sun left for you

You will ask to play through

Oh, you like to think you're immune

to the stuff , oh yeah

It's closer to the truth to say you can't get enough

You know you might as well admit it -

You're addicted to golf

AMDG

© R. E. Kelly 2012 -2020