Golf and the Game of Life

By Michael Fellin, Headmaster of Crescent School
Recently, I was on the golf course assisting with the Upper School golf team tryouts. It was my first time back on a GTA course since the fall. As each golfer approached the first tee, I announced, “Fore, please, next on the tee from Crescent School…” and they were off. I love the feeling of each new golf season.
By every measure, I was late to the game of golf. As a first-generation Canadian without parent exposure or financial means, golf was not even on my radar until one of my dad’s best friends asked me to accompany him to a driving range. “Give it a try,” he said. He knew I was a pretty athletic teen and must have known I would figure it out. I did and I haven’t looked back. In fact, people that know me well would probably say that I am a bit obsessed. I try to watch every PGA golf tournament, keep up with the professional stats, geek out on the latest technology, train with a swing coach off-season, and visit an athletic therapist to help with mobility.

I love the anticipation of playing and scoring well, especially on new tracks. I love getting my bag ready. I love driving to the golf club. I love scouting out the pro shop for a keepsake. I love warming up in the practice area. I love the nervousness of teeing off on the first hole. I love hitting a drive that lands in the fairway, a clean long iron, a crafty pitch, and especially a low-percentage putt. I love playing with my kids, a pal, or even going out alone. I love the feeling of putting in on 18 and visiting the 19th hole. I even love the ride home pondering what I did well and could have done better. 

The world of professional golf isn’t perfect by any objective measure. There is the PGA versus LIV controversy, a growing divide between the haves and have-nots, and a debate about whether pros and amateurs should play the same technology. At the recreational level, while the game boomed in the COVID years, municipal courses are often packed and in poor condition while private clubs are becoming increasingly inaccessible with growing waitlists and entrance fees. Costs are rising — both to play and to purchase equipment. There are real concerns about entry pathways.

All of this sounds a lot like the state of education. I believe the game of golf in its purest form teaches skills for the game of life, especially for school. The true value lies beyond perfectly manicured greens and pristine fairways or beautiful facilities and lesson plans. It’s the game within the game that reveals preparation, resilience, honesty, and integrity — what I think of as character. And this internal game often trips up even the best talent whether on the course, at home, or in the classroom. 

These days, I’m far more interested in how I play than what I score; far more appreciative of the game than competitive for results. I’m trying to play and live more creatively — to focus on the things I can control rather than worry about the things I can’t. After all, the game (and school) has changed as I have changed. My outlook is about growing and getting better as a school leader, as a golfer, and most importantly, as a person. 

This year, I have fully loved the return to school — the sights, sounds, and feelings of a campus full of human activity. I also know how hard it has been to return to a full program — compounding assignments, long hours, and endless requests. In many ways, this year is similar to the “before times” but different all at once. And while I know there is no such thing as going back, I also know that when we face hardship in life (especially on the course) the only way forward is to the next shot. School will not return exactly as it was and so it shouldn’t. It’s time to think carefully about our next hole, the conditions on the course, the readiness of those playing, and the larger end in mind. In doing so, let’s also remember we have evolved a few times in 110 years. "Fore please, next on the tee from Crescent School…"
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