Hundreds of years ago, two people shared a walk.
While they were walking, one used a staff to knock a small stone along until it suddenly fell into a rabbit hole. Flashing with joy, one said to the other, “I’ll bet you can’t do it again.” This game was born out of our natural instinct, the very human need to find and return to our center and reconnecting ourselves to our selves, ultimately linking our souls. It is a game so captivating that bygone kings had to ban it because their archers stopped preparing for war in order to play it. Make par, not war.
Today, it's a game played by families in grass thick enough to grow in shifting dunes and in winding, flat pathways mowed by rabbits in what we now call fairways. Over the years, however, something's been forgotten. The game once played by everyone is primarily available to the wealthy elites. “A gentleman’s game,” they call it. Racism, sexism, and classism run through it like cancer. It crosses the ocean only to repeat the same process over again. Eventually, capitalism takes hold. Carts are brought in to shuttle people like cattle through their round and keep the till full. Snake oil salesmen recognize the marketing power of a skilled player and harness it to sell performance products that do little more than feed the ego. Courses have become so difficult to keep up that their natural connection is just a faded memory. Resources are devoured to feed the machines.
Fundamentally, golf is a martial art stemming from the true Japanese origin of the term "bu-jutsu," meaning art, technique, skill, and craft. It's a walking meditation based on the principles of alignment, a social game in which we share the venerable search together. We help each other to laugh at our mistakes and we comfort each other, too. We root for each other and we grow together. Today, we're taking it all back to where it all started: on a course with all the heart and soul in the world and in a city that has fought hard to save its own. We've made it our mission to remind everyone of what this game is really all about. Linksoul welcomes you to Goat Hill Park.
Today, it's a game played by families in grass thick enough to grow in shifting dunes and in winding, flat pathways mowed by rabbits in what we now call fairways. Over the years, however, something's been forgotten. The game once played by everyone is primarily available to the wealthy elites. “A gentleman’s game,” they call it. Racism, sexism, and classism run through it like cancer. It crosses the ocean only to repeat the same process over again. Eventually, capitalism takes hold. Carts are brought in to shuttle people like cattle through their round and keep the till full. Snake oil salesmen recognize the marketing power of a skilled player and harness it to sell performance products that do little more than feed the ego. Courses have become so difficult to keep up that their natural connection is just a faded memory. Resources are devoured to feed the machines.
The walk will always outlive the score.
Fundamentally, golf is a martial art stemming from the true Japanese origin of the term "bu-jutsu," meaning art, technique, skill, and craft. It's a walking meditation based on the principles of alignment, a social game in which we share the venerable search together. We help each other to laugh at our mistakes and we comfort each other, too. We root for each other and we grow together. Today, we're taking it all back to where it all started: on a course with all the heart and soul in the world and in a city that has fought hard to save its own. We've made it our mission to remind everyone of what this game is really all about. Linksoul welcomes you to Goat Hill Park.
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