There are a lot of ways to spend money where golf is concerned.
I am not simply talking about investments in the basics: the clubs, the shoes, the shirts, the balls, the bags and the green fees.
I am talking about the other things, the things that go way beyond the little bags of tees.
Things like the Tempo Trainer. I know about the Tempo Trainer because the husband’s interest in the game has recently been revitalized. That is to say, the husband has been living and breathing golf over the past few months. And investing in things like the Tempo Trainer.
The Tempo Trainer is an odd-looking contraption. It’s about the length of a driver, but is flexible and has a weighted orb the size of a baseball on one end.
“It helps you develop a nice swing rhythm,” the husband has explained, while whipping the thing over his head and narrowly missing the lamp at the end of the living room chesterfield.
I do not know what the Tempo Trainer costs, but I know that it’s more than a golf glove.
Then there’s the Putting Mirror. This, you place on the living room floor, a safe distance from the lamp at the end of the chesterfield.
When you use the Putting Mirror — something the husband found online while searching all things golf — you centre the ball and align your putter with the guidelines on the shiny device.
“This helps keep my eyes over the ball and also helps me keep the stroke straight,” the husband informed me.
I wondered how golfers managed before there was such a thing as the Putting Mirror — or the Tempo Trainer, for that matter. All I know is that they would have had a little more money in their pockets for that after-round beer, and that their living room lamps would not have been in jeopardy.
The husband continued to search all things golf, and the courier continued to arrive at the door, delivering all manner of devices designed to enhance one’s performance on the course.
“How much did this cost?” I asked the husband as he ripped open his latest purchase. It was something called the Smart Ball.
“Oh, I don’t know,” said the husband. “Not much.”
I watched as the husband tried out the Smart Ball, which is fuzzy and about the size of a cantaloupe. It hangs from a cord, which you put around your neck. The idea, the husband explained, is to place the Smart Ball between your arms when you’re holding your club to keep them the “right distance” apart.
“It’s all about connectivity,” he said.
Again, no idea how golfers managed to shoot anything approximating par before the Smart Ball was invented.
I do not know what the courier might bring tomorrow or the day after that. I only know he’ll be ringing the doorbell again.
Golf’s an expensive business, I’ve learned. And that’s before you go out and play.