I usually have a few coins in my pocket when I'm playing, but

In the words of Louis Oosthuizen—“I usually have a few coins in my pocket when I’m playing, but the one I use to mark my ball on the green is a special silver coin that my wife designed for me. It has our wedding date inscribed on it.”—we behold not merely a tale of golf, but a hymn to love and memory. For the game of sport, though measured in strokes and victories, here becomes interwoven with the eternal covenant of marriage. The silver coin, humble in size, shines as a relic of devotion, reminding him at every turn that beyond competition lies the greater triumph of shared life.

The ancients treasured such tokens, for they knew that objects carry the weight of the spirit. Consider the story of Odysseus, who carried within his heart the image of Penelope as he wandered for twenty years. No coin marked his path, yet the memory of his wife was his compass through storm and strife. So too does Oosthuizen carry his wife’s gift into the field of play—not as ornament, but as anchor, binding the fleeting contest of sport to the enduring truth of love.

The wedding date, inscribed upon silver, is more than numbers etched in metal. It is a seal, a covenant pressed into time, that reminds him with every glance of the vow that shapes his life. The green may test his skill, the crowd may measure his victory, but the coin whispers of something greater: that all triumphs are fleeting if not grounded in love. In this way, a simple act of marking the ball becomes a ritual, binding his craft to the sacred story of his union.

Think also of the Roman legionaries, who often carried amulets, carved with the faces of wives and children, into battle. For though they fought for empire, their true courage came not from banners or trumpets, but from the small tokens of home that reminded them why life was worth defending. Oosthuizen’s coin is of the same spirit—it transforms the solitary struggle of sport into an offering, each putt and swing consecrated by love’s enduring presence.

Thus, let us learn from this: carry always within your life a token of what is sacred. Whether it be coin, word, or memory, let it remind you of what endures beyond the day’s contest. For victories fade, applause dies, and games are forgotten—but the love that inscribes itself upon the soul is eternal, and with such a treasure, even the smallest coin becomes more valuable than gold.