Two Letters to the Editor in the Washington
Post caught my eye this morning.
Usually, the section publishes the grumblings of the politically
disaffected or the eagle-eyed reader who has spotted some inaccuracy in a story
which would otherwise be considered arcana of significance only to the single complainant. However,
these letters addressed a matter of earth-shattering importance to the populace at large: Is the word “golf” a noun or a verb?
The first letter:
I suspect serious golfers cringed when they spotted the
headline “The president who golfed too much” [Sunday Opinion, April 23]. I’ve
been playing golf for more than 60 years and have never heard a serious golfer
use “golf” as a verb, even though you can find a dictionary reference to such. In
the lexicon of serious golfers, “golf” is exclusively a noun.
Serious golfers play golf. They never golf or go golfing.
The second letter:
Call me an old fuddy-duddy . However, in defense of golfers everywhere, someone
please tell op-ed writer Matthew Algeo, all readers and the world that “golf”
is not a verb.
Do we “go tennissing?” Do we “go baseballing?” Algeo’s April
23 commentary offered a nice angle on President Trump vs. President William
Howard Taft in terms of days spent on the course, but I would have preferred to
read an article titled “The president who goofed too much.”
Before the calumnies start to fly in social media for a perceived criticism of POTUS, a little
background is needed. The reference to “goof”in the second letter above, I believe, is a reference to the preeminent
humorist P.G. Wodehouse. As I wrote in a post several years ago, Wodehouse was born in
1881 in the UK, Wodehouse spent the last 73 years of his life writing some of the funniest
stories in the English language. One of his tomes, a collection of short stories concerning
the great game of golf, was entitled “The Heart of a Goof”, a goof being someone who plays
golf but is entirely consumed by the game, i.e., “One of those unfortunate beings who have
allowed this noblest of sports to get too great a grip upon them.”
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| Unadulterated Genius! |
Whether the current president is consumed by the game of
golf, who am I to say. What I will say
is that Wodehouse is perhaps the funniest man ever to put pen to paper,
certainly so on the subject of golf. For
instance, the Heart of a Goof was dedicated to his daughter thusly:
To My Daughter Leonora Without Whose Never-Failing Sympathy And
Encouragement This Book Would Have Been Finished In Half The Time
And
then there was this:
To Ferdinand Dibble, coming from a club
where the standard of play was rather un-
usually high, Marvis Bay was a revelation,
and for some days after his arrival there he
went about dazed, like a man who cannot
believe it is really true. To go out on the
links at this summer resort was like entering
a new world. The hotel was full of stout,
middle-aged men, who, after a mis-spent
youth devoted to making money, had taken
to a game at which real proficiency can only
be acquired by those who start playing in
their cradles and keep their weight down.
Out on the course each morning you could see
representatives of every nightmare style that
was ever invented. There was the man who
seemed to be attempting to deceive his ball
and lull it into a false security by looking
away from it and then making a lightning
slash in the apparent hope of catching it off
its guard. There was the man who wielded
his mid-iron like one killing snakes There
was the man who addressed his ball as if he
were stroking a cat, the man who drove as
if he were cracking a whip, the man who
brooded over each shot like one whose heart
is bowed down by bad news from home, and
the man who scooped with his mashie as if he
were ladling soup. By the end of the first
week Ferdinand Dibble was the acknowledged
champion of the place. He had gone through
the entire menagerie like a bullet through a
cream puff.
And
finally, a serious observation concerning the greatest sport:
Golf... is the
infallible test. The man who can go into a patch of rough alone, with the
knowledge that only God is watching him, and play his ball where it lies, is
the man who will serve you faithfully and well.
In my prior post
concerning the great Wodehouse and The Heart of Goof, I proposed a parody based
on another Wodehouse story in which a man observes a
golf lesson being given to his girlfriend
inside the home by another gentleman friend. Wodehouse’s character mistakes the golf
lesson for something entirely
different. Imagine, as Wodehouse does,
that you are viewing the action from the rear, a situation in which a man is
nestled against the female with his arms around her, holding a golf club. Since the viewer cannot see the club, it is
reasonable for the viewer to misapprehend the explicit verbal instructions
concerning holding an object about waist level, to his girlfriend, with a firm
grip. Double entendres abound.
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IT was a morning when all nature shouted "Fore! |
At the risk of boring my dedicated readers, I am repeating the parody from
my prior post below. Please don’t allow
my modest attempt at humor from discouraging you to pick up a Wodehouse book,
perhaps the Heart of a Goof, at your earliest convenience.
P.S. If I have ever used “golf” as a verb during the five years I have been
publishing posts in this blog I humbly beg your complete forgiveness, you old
fuddy-duddy,
ANYWAY YOU WANT IT
Performed by Journey
Songwriter/Composer:
Steven Ray Perry
Neal J. Schon
Publishers:
Lacey Boulevard music
Weed High Nightmare Music
© BMG Rights Management US, LLC, Carlin America INC.
Any way you grip it
That’s the way to rip it
Any way you grip it
She loves to golf
She loves to swing
She shakes everything
She loves to hook
She loves to slice
She loves the golfin’ things
Ooh, all round, all round
Oh, every round
So grip right, grip tight
Ooh baby rip it
Oh, she said,
Any way you grip it
That’s the way to rip it
Any way you grip it
She said, Any way you grip it
That’s the way to rip it
Any way you grip it
I played alone
I never knew
What twosome golf could do
Ooh, Then we played
rode the same cart
and it was all over
Ooh, all day, all day
Oh, every day
So swing right, swing right
Ooh baby, supinate
Oh, she said,
Any way you grip it
That’s the way to rip it
Any way you grip it
She said, Any way you grip it
That’s the way to rip it
Any way you grip it
That’s the way to rip it
Any way you grip it
She loves to golf
She loves to swing
She shakes everything
She loves to hook
She loves to slice
She loves the golfin’ things
Ooh, all round, all round
Oh, every round
So grip right, grip tight
Ooh baby rip it
Oh, she said,
Any way you grip it
That’s the way to rip it
Any way you grip it
She said, Any way you grip it
That’s the way to rip it
Any way you grip it
I played alone
I never knew
What twosome golf could do
Ooh, Then we played
rode the same cart
and it was all over
Ooh, all day, all day
Oh, every day
So swing right, swing right
Ooh baby, supinate
Oh, she said,
Any way you grip it
That’s the way to rip it
Any way you grip it
She said, Any way you grip it
That’s the way to rip it
Any way you grip it
AMDGTM
©
2012-14 R.E. Kelly
