Organ recital

I call it the “organ recital.” That’s the ritual airing of bodily grievances, invariable by an older generation of men — and women, no doubt — as they gather periodically (whether daily, weekly or just occasionally) at breakfast shops, 19th holes, fire pits or book groups and take turns complaining about their various organic dysfunctions.

I avoid such chatter like the plague — which, thankfully, I have not experienced, in the all-too-many years of my existence. I don’t want to be reminded about getting older and frailer. My golf game provides all the evidence I need of that. And so instead of sharing my infirmities with other old people, I’d much prefer trying to stay younger, or at least adapting to my inevitable aging, by working at my game.

Golf allows you to do that. Perhaps other sports do, as well, though I wouldn’t expect to find much hope with baseball, football, ice hockey or basketball of reasonably improving performance as you approach eligibility for Social Security benefits. Of course, there’s always pickleball — which is why every country club I know is adding such courts to its campus.

The beauty of golf is that because there are so many different shots involved, you can always work on your short game to compensate for the inevitable ebbing of your long game. I’ve recently discovered the joys of the 30- to 40-yard lob wedge played from tight, fairway-height turf. Honing it (relatively speaking) has taken a lot of pressure off my approach play and allowed me to rely less on long putting.

I’m not much of a practicer. I have always found it boring to beat golf balls for an hour or so. I lose interest around 20 minutes in, though I have been finding myself enjoying those sessions — as much to warm up and let my body get limber as to work on takeaway, angle of attack and finish. But I am wary of hitting off artificial turf mats. The toll on my shoulders is simply too much. With one biceps tenotomy surgery behind me and another orthopedic invasion looming, I am careful not to compound the damage.

And so, I have discovered the joys of 5,600-yard rounds — nine holes, actually, with my bag in tow on an unmotorized pull cart or carrying it myself. Once a caddie, always a caddie, I like to say.

Golf is ideal for its adaptability to diverse skill sets. After two decades of golf courses getting longer — the 1980s and ’90s — owners and course managers started paying attention to the way real, fee-paying golfers played and began sneaking the tees forward. “Stretching the course,” I say, in both directions. Small wonder that the game is booming. Forced carries over irrecoverable hazards are increasingly frowned upon with new designs. Older courses are getting retrofitted, with forward tees at a more reasonable length, with the shortest tees in the 4,000s, two sets of tees in the 5,000s and everyday play readily accommodated at 6,100 to 6,300 yards.

I’m fine at 6,000 yards, yet always find it surprisingly enjoyable to play at 5,700 yards; suddenly, par 4s are more reachable in regulation rather than requiring driver-rescue-wedge to reach.

The game is healthier for that concession to age, which also happens to be a concession to gender and youth. I take personal pride in having been part of a healthy, golf industry-wide discourse on the value of course architecture, strategic play and fun as crucial elements of the game. That’s now reflected in course setup universally.

Golf is a game for the ages. Including those of us who are aging.

My wife — a non-golfer — and I recently tried to come up with a list of people we know who are getting younger. We failed to come up with a single name. Still, we try to engage with a fresh circle of people diverse in age and outlook. She’s in a college classroom teaching people born in this century. I’m regularly working and playing golf with folks half my age. If that means a round where they play from the back tees and I play from more forward tees, then great; golf allows for that flexibility. Along the way, it affords everyone, of any skill, infirmity or age, of getting better, of flexing their game and working on areas that will enhance their scoring — or at least enhance their enjoyment.

Paying attention to that in course design and maintenance will ensure the long-term well-being of the game and of those who play it.