Golf has always brought a tremendous amount of joy and positivity into my personal and professional life. Well, almost always, as this article will convey.
On the professional side, it was through a corporate golf day invitation that I first set foot on a golf course. And that experience is what ultimately cemented my love for the sport. – (I will circle back here later)
It’s also the place where I prefer to network and continue to close business – and yes, this is a real thing, and I can vouch for concluding business on a golf course on many occasions.
On the personal side, some of you are very aware of how passionate I am about grassroots golf development and taking golf to people and communities who have been and continue to be excluded from it.
But being out in nature on pristinely manicured golf courses, playing a sport I love, isn’t always sunshine and birdies. Sometimes, (often LOL) it's due to us not being able to chip, drive or drop a putt, even if our mother’s life depended on it! And other times, because of the remnants of the social constructs designed to exclude people who look and sound like me from “privileged” spaces.
Spaces such as Constantia, the Atlantic seaboard, and golf courses – in the latter, many of which are built on municipal land subsidised by our rates and taxes, mind you.
At my age, I just about missed all the blatant social inequalities that my “more experienced” golfing buddies endured during Apartheid - Separate toilets for “whites” and “non-whites”, being forcefully removed from your home and community, or not being able to enter a golf course, let alone a clubhouse.
While the system of Apartheid has been abolished, its abominable values are still cherished and observed by some. Sometimes overtly and in highly concentrated levels, as you might have seen in a recent video that went viral on social media, in which an armed white man assaulted a black restaurant patron in a Limpopo parking lot in a racially-charged attack.
And at other times, in the form of micro-aggressions laced with racial bias, as in my experiences last week.
Allow me to draw you into two incidents that happened last Thursday and Sunday at Rondebosch and King David Mowbray golf clubs, respectively.
In the former, I received a last-minute call from a friend asking if I’d like to join him for a quick twilight 9-holer. At first I said it did not look like I could make it. But, as greedy golfers do, I made a plan, LOL.
Now, this friend is a classic example of the goodness golf brings into my life. I first met him after he reached out to donate some golf equipment and accessories to Mitchells Plain Golf Club – and now this former acquaintance is a good friend, and we even do non-golfing things together.
Anyway, I digress from the plot at hand. When we arrived at the course, we found a Nomads Western Province Girls Championship taking place. The last group was in the process of turning, and we reluctantly teed off behind them on the 1st tee – accepting that it was no longer going to be a quick 9-holer.
After making par and double-bogey on the first two holes, I found myself in the right rough of the fairway on the 3rd hole, along with another player of my four-ball. Our balls landed close to those of the girls, who had teed off the 4th hole two groups ahead of us. The girls had already taken position alongside their balls as we walked up to where we thought ours was.
Anyone who regularly plays with me will know that I mark my ball with my initials. So, I was certain that the ball I found was definitely mine. Also, for added peace of mind, I was playing a DRA logo ball that was kindly sponsored to MPGC by Fatima Packery.
The course was wet and very susceptible to plugged balls on fairways, adding even more time to an already slow-moving field that had the option of cautiously negotiating preferred lies.
Out of respect for the competition taking place around us, we decided to let the girls play first, also eliminating the risk of one of us hitting one of their balls by mistake. One of the girls was taking especially long to play as she deliberated with her caddy about her preferred line options. So I proceeded to play my ball as it was safe to do so. My playing partner was on one of a few work-related calls he took that day as he waited for all the girls to play through. (Note that he was far away enough not to be a distraction to anyone while on the phone).
As we reached the green of the 3rd hole, I saw the player who was with me in the rough in a short conversation with one of our other players in the group, saying the ball left for him to play from the rough was not his, and he therefore dropped a new ball to play, leaving the other one where he found it. He deduced that one of the girls must have mistakenly played his ball.
As we arrived on the 6th tee box and preparing to tee it up, we were approached by a man who was walking up to us with a clear sense of purpose. No apprehension or caution could be observed on his face or body language.
He confronted one of my friends with the words: “which one of you hit the girls ball? Because you cost her a penalty”. That was the first thing he said. He didn’t offer the common decency to introduce himself. Up until now, I still don’t know if he is the girl’s dad or a tournament official.
I was a couple of meters away getting a ball from my golf trolley when I witnessed this confrontation unfold and walked into the discussion myself as my friend went on to explain what actually happened.
The disturbing observation I made was how unsettled and almost apologetic my friend was during this confrontation. He almost looked guilty. This is in stark contrast to the manner in which we were approached by the self-assured white man.
He seemingly reluctantly accepted our version of the incident, after which I expressed my view that the confrontational manner in which he approached us was unacceptable. You don’t walk up to some and cast an allegation against them without establishing all the facts. Or, at the very least, the other side of the story.
My friends (all coloured) were quick to hush me, as in not to confront this man about the disrespectful manner in which he approached us, downplaying the incident. The man apologised (unconvincingly) and walked away, returning to the little caucus he had left to address us. I was upset by all this as we motioned to tee off on the par 3, but still managing to hit a GIR and two-putt from the front of the green to a red (back) pin location for par.
As we continued playing, one of the guys said he didn’t even initially realise that we were being accused of something without explanation until I raised it in my “counter-confrontation”, if you will – but such is the nature of micro-racial aggressions and bias, it’s almost subliminal and we sometimes only realise after the fact what actually happened. And we’ve been so conditioned through our upbringing to respond to it in a submissive and subordinate manner that it’s still a default response for many of us.
My response, though, was not a counter-confrontation as much as it was me standing up for myself. For us, in a respectful manner, notwithstanding.
With them being members of the club and the nature of people to gossip, I encouraged the others to report the incident to the Golf Director because experience taught me that the truth would not be conveyed to the club’s structures with the same fervour as we were accused in if at all, leaving them to unknowingly be the villains in this week’s episode of our Rainbow Nation.
Fortunately, the Golf Director pulled up to collect the tee markers on the 8th tee, and they took the chance opportunity to casually inform her of the incident. Honestly, I don’t they would have had she not – because that’s what we tend to do, overlook these incidents and accept it as part of life. At least in our lives. The manager apologised for any discomfort the incident may have caused.
All is said and done at this point, right? That’s what we thought. Until a woman came rolling up alongside us in a golf cart saying, “Which one of you hit the girl’s ball?!l” I’m generally a patient and restrained individual, and it takes a lot to wind me up - My dear wife can attest to this, #browniepoints!
The contempt the lady, who also didn’t introduce herself (she could have been a tournament official or the young girl’s grandmother, who knows), rolled up to us with was triggering. I was closest to her and responded saying, “You’re the second person coming up to us and accusing one of us of hitting the girl’s ball, and your approach is not right”. I proceeded to share the reality of what happened.
She was somewhat jolted by my measured but firm response. To which she responded, “No, I’m only joking, but in future, you must make sure you play the correct ball”. I looked at my friend, thinking WTAF?!
Despite detailing the sequence of events to her, she was adamant that my friend had some degree of culpability in the girl not playing the correct ball. A ball that she walked up to and thought was hers. A ball that she hit while my friend stood in the rough while on a phone call while waiting for her to play her shot.
Look, it’s an honest mistake that anyone could make. But distorting the facts about how one came to hit an incorrect ball is a matter of integrity. And yet, it was our integrity that was questioned without hesitation.
Needless to sa, the woman ,too, was white. As we left the course, I heard her say to one of my friends ahead of me something along the lines of, “I hope I didn’t offend you earlier.”
I probably would not have written about all this if it wasn’t for another incident of micro-aggression from a white male at King David Mowbray this past Sunday morning. Almost guilty myself of falling into the same category of people who allow “things” to slide time and again.
On that day, I was playing with a member and two other of his guests. Our round was going pleasantly despite the wind starting to pick up.
We fell behind the recommended pace of play by 3 minutes on the 5th hole when the marshal duly notified us and escorted us until we teed off on the 6th hole. Mindful not to fall behind on pace even more, we sped up our play to offset the delay because we understand no one likes a slow group ahead of them.
We progressed well and made it to the halfway house at the 10th hole to enjoy a quick snack. Two of our players had pre-ordered breakfast that was to be brought to them from the clubhouse kitchen, while I enjoyed a chicken-mayo sandwich, and the other had an avocado he brought from home – smart move!
The pre-ordered breakfast had a bit of a delay, maybe 5 - 6 minutes. It eventually arrived a couple of minutes before the group behind us arrived at the halfway house, too, a group of four white males. Neither of whom offered a friendly hello as cordial golfers generally do.
At a point when we’re all eating, one of the men in the other group asks if they can play through. This request usually happens when the group ahead of you is playing unreasonably slow.
Now, we arrived well ahead of them at the halfway house, and we’re almost done eating while they had just about received their food. So we were confused as to why they would ask this and offered our reluctance to let them play through since we were about to wrap up and proceed to the 10th tee when they only just arrived. While we are deliberating amongst ourselves if they should play through, two of them stand up as if we had already said yes.
Then one of the remaining men rather arrogantly responds to our averseness to let them play through by saying, “Well, you’re holding up the entire field”, as he stood up and walked toward the 10th tee box along with the rest of his mates. We were perplexed into a state of confused silence at this behaviour, seemingly as the imposter syndrome that has almost become part of our DNA when it comes to these issues kicked in – because it's only after this that we assessed our timekeeping and determined that we in fact well ahead of the pace of play.
We arrived at the halfway house at least 4 minutes earlier than recommended, so even with the delayed delivery of the breakfast we were still good for time. And my friend who invited me rued not having the awareness to present this to them in the moment.
This unjustifiable, condescending entitlement on golf courses by some is what fuels the energy I put into the golf development and transformation activities I’m involved in.
My golf friends and I find ourselves in privileged spaces with access to better resources and opportunities, yet, we still find ourselves subjected to nuances of Apartheid ideologies. How much worse is it for our brothers and sisters who remain condemned to the outskirts of these places and spaces?
This is one of the reasons why it brings me immense happiness whenever we take our young MPGC players to compete at some of the best golf courses in the Cape. Golf is a real prospective pathway up and forward for them.
To see 10, 11, 12-year-old kids from the Cape Flats play on courses that I could only access as a working twenty-something is a small but positive sign on progress. By the time they are young adults, we want them to know that they belong in these spaces too. Hopefully, as members, as much as anyone else.
And we won’t allow anyone to make them feel as unwelcome as the generations before them was.
IOL
Far From Par is a series about the grassroots development of golf in South Africa. For decades golf was a sport reserved for white men for both leisure and professional expression.
Sadly, after nearly 30 years of democracy, apart from it now being open to all, not much has changed to foster meaningful transformation.
This series explores his experience on the importance of, challenges faced, and status quo of grassroots golf development and transformation in South Africa.
Follow me on Instagram @far_frompar and visit www.mpgc.org.za for golf development information. Contact Jehad on +27 723654037 or [email protected] | @mitchellsplain_golfclub on Instagram.