By Brett Cyrgalis
It’s a concept that has been espoused by the poets and philosophers throughout history, but has seemingly never been more poignant:
Be where your feet are.
This might be an exercise in telling the young’uns to get off my lawn – or my favorite from The Simpsons, the newspaper headline that says, “Old Man Yells at Cloud.” But I think golf has become a fertile ground for the conversation about how our culture is changing. Personal interaction is now viewed through a digital lens, a dehumanizing vantage point that distorts reality. The line between what exists on your phone and what exists in front of you is blurring – at least it is for some. And the more that line moves, the uglier it gets.
It was never more apparent that at this year’s Ryder Cup at Bethpage Black. When the host site was announced in 2013, there was a modicum of concern regarding the comportment of the fanbase. And yet in the ensuing 12 years it seems like civility has degraded exponentially. We’re New Yorkers, we’re tough on our athletes, on our opponents. Heck, we’re tough on our own teams. But the small fraction of those who cross the line is now rounding into a larger number. There is a rising inability to distinguish the difference between a character on a screen and a living, breathing human being.
On Saturday afternoon, I went out to follow the four-ball match between Rory McIlory and Shane Lowry versus Justin Thomas and Cam Young. Wow, what a match-up, right? Three eagle putts on No. 4, Rory up first. He’s over the ball, and someone from no more than 20 yards away screams the type of insult that starts a bar fight. Or used to. Could you imagine saying that to someone you’ve never met (or chanting it to a rabid crowd)? How about saying it in front of children who are out trying to watch their favorite golfers? Golfers, man, not cage-fighters.
Rory backs away, shakes his head, misses. Lowry up next, drains the 20-footer, turns to the direction of the heckler and curses right back at him. I don’t blame him. I might’ve done the same thing. But goodness, imagine what Bobby Jones would think?
Next hole, No. 5, Lowry’s drive is in the right rough, a foot from the spectator ropes. (And how those guys carry that bunker with ease is still amazing.) Some moron starts going on and on about corned beef and cabbage – which, mind you, is distinctly Irish-American. Lowry’s caddie eventually told the nincompoop to shut up, Lowry hits one to 8 feet, turns back to the guy, and tips his cap. Now that was funny, with the topper being that he made the putt and won the hole.
As I walked back in that afternoon through the mass of people, so many of them where pylons, head down in their phones like their lives depended on it. I’ll bet that idiot who yelled at Rory had his phone recording the whole time and couldn’t wait to share it. He might not have seen another golf shot that whole day. Getting the video was probably his whole intention showing up, so who cares if he got thrown out or not? He got what he came for, internet infamy.
At this point, it’s fair to ask how much of our collective memories are being saved on the cloud, unable to be recalled without reliable WiFi? Evoking the feeling of what it was like to be there – not the feeling itself – makes the best pictures. Good art remains a representation of life, not the other way around.
Golf, at its best, is an exercise in being present. You need that mindset to hit a good shot, to laugh with your playing partner, to smell the grass. To really enjoy it, you have to be where your feet are. It’s hard, and at times it’s impossible to detach from the outside world. You need to respond to an email or text. We live in a wondrous world that is moving so fast, and we are all guilty of over-digitalization. I had my phone out to record that scene at No. 4, thinking it would be a cool keepsake if anyone made eagle. I got it, alright, but it felt a little like filming a car crash. Or a bar fight.
Golf, if you allow it, can be a respite for this digital world. Open fields, quiet, decorum. Treating people like you can reach out and touch them, not like they are a character on a screen. If golf can help us be fractionally more present, let it.
Now get off my lawn while I yell at this cloud.