John Updike Quotes About Golf

Quotes about: Golf

• Golf appeals to the idiot in us and the child. Just how childlike golf players become is proven by their frequent inability to count past five.

  John Updike

  Children, Dirty, Golf

  John Updike (2011). “Golf Dreams: Writings on Golf”, p.148, Random House

• The golf swing is like a suitcase into which we are trying to pack one too many things.

  John Updike

  Golf, Swings, Trying

  John Updike (2009). “More Matter: Essays and Criticism”, p.124, Random House

• ...as all souls are equal before their Maker, a two inch putt counts the same as a 250 yard drive. There is a comedy in this and a certain unfairness even, which makes golf an even apter mirror of reality.

  John Updike

  Golf, Reality, Mirrors

• There was clearly great charm and worth in a sport so quaintly perverse in its basic instructions. Hit down to make the ball rise. Swing easy to make it go far. Finish high to make it go straight.

  John Updike

  Sports, Golf, Swings

  John Updike (2011). “Golf Dreams: Writings on Golf”, p.24, Random House

• The difficulty is, all swing thoughts decay, like radium. What burnt up the course on Wednesday has turned to lead on Sunday. Yet it does not do to have a blank mind: the terrible hugeness of the course will rush into the vacuum and the ball will spray like a thing berserk.

  John Updike

  Sunday, Golf, Swings

• In no other sport must the spectator move.

  John Updike

  Sports, Moving, Golf

• Golf camaraderie, like that of astronauts and Antarctic explorers, is based on a common experience of transcendence; fat or thin, scratch or duffer, we have been somerwhere together where non-golfers never go.

  John Updike

  Golf, Together, Scratches

  John Updike (2011). “Golf Dreams: Writings on Golf”, p.125, Random House

• Many men are more faithful to their golf partners than to their wives and have stuck with them longer.

  John Updike

  Golf, Men, Wife

  John Updike (2011). “Golf Dreams: Writings on Golf”, p.126, Random House

• Dream golf is simply golf played on another course. We chip from glass tables onto moving stairways; we swing in a straightjacket, through masses of cobweb, and awaken not with any sense of unjust hazard but only with a regret that the round can never be completed, and that one of our phantasmal companions has kept the scorecard.

  John Updike

  Dream, Regret, Moving

  John Updike (2012). “Golf Dreams”, p.22, Penguin UK

• What other sport holds out hope of improvement to a man or a woman over fifty? True, the pros begin to falter at around forty, but it is their putting nerves that go, not their swings. For a duffer like [me], the room for improvement is so vast that three lifetimes could be spent roaming the fiarways carving away at it, convinced that perfection lies just over the next rise. And that hope, perhaps, is the kindest bliss of all that golf bestows upon its devotees.

  John Updike

  Sports, Lying, Golf

• The other sad truth about golf spectatorship is that for today's pros it all comes down to the putting, and that the difference between a putt that drops and one that rims the cup, though teleologically enormous, is intellectually negligeable.

  John Updike

  Golf, Differences, Today

• "Hit it with the back of your left hand" was the first swing thought I ever heard, brusquely bu not unlovingly put to me by the aunt-in-law who had moments before placed a golf club in my virgin grip. I was twenty-five, and had spent my youth in a cloisterd precinct of teh middle class where golf was a rumoured something, like champagne breakfasts and divorce, that the rich did.

  John Updike

  Divorce, Golf, Aunt

• I assume my stance, and take back the club, low, slowly; at the top, my eyes fog over, and my joints dip and swirl like barn swallows, I swing. There is a fruitless commotion of dust and rubber at my feet. "Smothered it," I say promptly. After enough lessons the terminology becomes second nature.

  John Updike

  Eye, Golf, Fog

  John Updike (2011). “Golf Dreams: Writings on Golf”, p.20, Random House

• I know how to choke. Given even a splinter-thin opportunity to let my side down and destroy my own score, I will seize it. Not only does ice water not run through my veins, but what runs there has a boiling point lower than body temperature.

  John Updike

  Running, Golf, Opportunity

• The muttered hint, "Remember, you have a stroke here," freezes my joints like a blast from Siberia.

  John Updike

  Golf, Remember You, Remembers You

  John Updike (2011). “Golf Dreams: Writings on Golf”, p.33, Random House

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