I'm just beginning to get a sense for ways I can use golf - or perhaps mountain biking at some point in time - to stay focused on causes that are dear to my heart.
Men trifle with their business and their politics but never trifle with their games. It brings truth home to them. They cannot pretend they have won when they have lost nor that they had a magnificent drive when they foozled it. The Englishman is at his best on the links and at his worst in the Cabinet.
The best stroked putt in a lifetime does not bring the aesthetic satisfaction of a perfectly hit wood or iron shot. There is nothing to match the whoosh and soar, the almost magical flight of a beautifully hit drive or 5-iron.
Men who would face torture without a word become blasphemous at the short fourteenth. It is clear that the game of golf may well be included in that category of intolerable provocations which may legally excuse or mitigate behaviour not otherwise excusable.
My ball is in a bunch of fern, A jolly place to be; An angry man is close astern- He waves his club at me. Well, let him wave-the sky is blue; Go on, old ball, we are but two-We may be down in three, Or nine-or ten-or twenty-five-It matters not; to be alive, Is good enough for me.
I teamed up with the PGA of America to help promote a weekend of golf that raises scholarship money for kids who lost a parent or whose parent was severely wounded in combat.
If you hit a bad shot, just tell yourself it is great to be alive, relaxing and walking around on a beautiful golf course. The next shot will be better.