I started the 2026 golf season full of confidence. And once again, reality hit me with full force.
Golf is perhaps the only sport in the world where you can completely reinvent yourself – and simultaneously forget everything you ever knew – all within four hours. A buttery-smooth iron shot onto the green on the opening hole, a shank flying towards the car park on hole two, and by the third fairway you're genuinely wondering whether you still remember how to hold a golf club. In short: golf is like a toxic relationship.
At first, it's all passion. You can't get enough of each other, you look forward to every moment together, and you forgive even the biggest mistakes. A wayward tee shot? No problem. The love is stronger than that. You still affectionately talk about our game.
Then the years go by. The swing becomes quieter. The timing grows colder. What used to be a gentle draw has turned into a passive-aggressive push to the right. You stand on the tee like an old married couple at the breakfast table: nobody says a word, yet both know it's not what it used to be.
And then there are those moments when you realise the love has faded. You stand over the ball and feel... nothing. No confidence. No hope. Your head is full of thoughts you'd rather keep to yourself. It's like when your partner says, "We need to talk."
And just like in every relationship that's hit a rough patch, you never blame yourself. Me? Certainly not. It's the clubs. Of course it's the clubs.
The 7-iron feels lifeless. The putter "just doesn't suit me anymore." The driver has "had an issue with the clubface for weeks." How many complete golf bags have been replaced simply because it's easier than admitting the real problem is standing behind the club? Just like in a troubled relationship, you start looking at someone else, even though you know that once the excitement of the honeymoon phase fades, everyday reality returns. Golf shops thrive on exactly that.
Perhaps that's precisely why it's so easy to lose your game in golf. Every shot is weighed down by emotions, unrealistic expectations and a healthy dose of vanity. You're never just playing against the course. You're playing against memories of better rounds, against your playing partners in questionable outfits who somehow keep hitting better shots, and against your own pride. The last place you ever look for the problem is yourself.
But just when you're about to call it quits, it happens: the perfect round. Every shot is effortlessly pure, soft as butter, soaring beautifully towards the sun. Just like in those blissful early days. And in an instant, the old love is back. Every humiliation, every doubt, every frustration is forgotten.
That's golf. You constantly want to break up with it. You threaten to walk away time and time again. But in the end, you always stay together.
And that's exactly how it should be.
Because every relationship is worth working on.
Until the Slice Divorces You.
