"As we picked up our bags and followed our balls toward the horizon, we talked about how the blind drive allowed you to feel and enjoy something different about a solid drive. You could feel it ringing in your bones long after the strike, and it allowed us to believe - if just for a few moments - that our drive would careen beyond the 150 - maybe all the way down toward the 100. It allowed you to savour a drive in a way that is different than watching the final truth of the bounce and roll - something deep in your soul."
Adam FosterC:
I assume you've read Max Behr's musings on blindness.
"And yet the abortive principles of the Penal School assert that all hidden architecture is bad. But should the golfer, in all cases, become immediately aware of what his fate is? Is golf to be robbed of all illussion? Is the walk between shots to be, only, either a tragic or dull affair? Is it not suspense of knowledge that, in hunting, shooting, fishing, and in all sports (as opposed to "games") sublimates the mind and heart into a region where, for a moment, we are permitted to dream impossible things, and become heroes? In games we satisfy the physical demands of our bodies and the quick objective use of our senses, but in sports, it is the nourishment of the imagination that makes them so lovable. In a game we are face to face with a duplicate of ourselves; but, in a sport, we stand before the great unknown, wooing her with the virtue of our skill, hoping to be enfolded in her arms, but never sure that at the end we will not find ourselves outcast. Surely the maid of our heart should not reveal all her charms to us at once."