Golfballogy
I know what I’m talking about. This is not speculation, theory, hypothesis, or conjecture. This is empirical, first hand, authentic, scientific observation. I am a collector of golf balls, with more than 2000 specimens, and an expert (self-proclaimed) in golfballogy, the psychology of golf balls.
Golf balls wander. They are attracted by golf ball swimming holes, golf ball beaches, and especially by golf ball jungles. You see, golf balls far prefer safaris in golf ball jungles than being mis- (or is it mal-) treated by people professing to be golfers.
Conversely, golf balls WANT to be found by gentle, sensitive, loving, caring golf ball collectors, who will clean them, coddle them, protect them, and provide them with comfortable lodging and a life free from mistreatment. How do I know this? They beckon to me. They lead me. They won’t let me fail to see them. If I don’t make visual contact, they get under my feet to make their presence known. I don’t choose my path through the rough. They do, by letting me find them.
Golf balls congregate. When I find a golf ball, another ball is within 6’. They gather in pods of two or more, similar to humpback whales. Sometimes I fail to find the partner, but that’s MY fault. How do I know they congregate? I’ve seen them moving! Some days, I don’t even bother to bend down unless they have done their part and I can see more than one within reach.
Occasionally I find a pod of ancient ones, tanned and wrinkled. Usually the tan is full-body, a feat that could NOT be achieved without movement. When the tan is one-sided, it is apparent that the ball has either been stuck or given up hope.
Golf balls of a feather flock together. As they congregate, golf balls discriminate. Finding a ball with a Japanese logo virtually assures that its 6’ partner will also be Japanese. Finding a ball with no logo always starts a run of no logo friends.
Why don’t golfers find their own misdirected drives? Golfers look where they think the ball went. Why do I succeed in finding them? Besides the fact that the balls want me to find them, I look where I know balls go. In my favorite golf ball jungle there is a row of trees and bushes that is to an errant drive what baleen is to krill. I could go there this minute and find balls. Golfers are SURE they hit it farther than that.
Now, I have a confession to make. In addition to being a collector, I play golf (note that I did NOT say I’m a golfer!). When collecting, therefore, I am careful to wear conservative clothing (loud colors, knickers, spikes, and Nike caps are OUT), refrain from drinking beer, and disdain the use of expletives. "Here little golf ball, come to a COLLECTOR!"
-Pono