The only way to enjoy golf is to be a masochist. Go out and beat

The actor and singer Howard Keel, known for his powerful voice and commanding presence, once spoke these humorous yet profound words: “The only way to enjoy golf is to be a masochist. Go out and beat yourself to death.” Though at first his tone may seem light, his statement carries the ancient wisdom of endurance — the truth that to truly love any pursuit, one must embrace both its triumphs and its torments. Golf, in this sense, becomes not just a game, but a metaphor for the soul’s journey: a path of endless striving, where perfection forever retreats just beyond reach, and the only true victory lies in the courage to keep swinging.

Keel’s words are born of irony, but also of understanding. The game of golf, that seemingly peaceful walk across fields of green, is in truth a test of discipline, patience, and humility. It humbles even the proudest, punishes the careless, and mocks those who think themselves masters. To play it well requires the soul of a stoic, one who can endure frustration with grace. Keel saw this truth — that golf, like life, demands not merely skill, but the acceptance of struggle as part of joy. His jest about being a masochist — one who takes pleasure in pain — hides within it the eternal paradox of human endeavor: that fulfillment is born from difficulty, and that the deepest satisfaction comes not from ease, but from endurance.

For what is golf, if not a mirror of existence? The course stretches before the player like the years of one’s life — full of traps, rough patches, and unpredictable winds. Each swing is a decision, each missed shot a lesson. The wise do not curse the challenge; they learn to love it, to smile even in defeat, knowing that the game is not to conquer the course, but to conquer oneself. In this, Keel’s jest touches the heart of stoic philosophy, the same truth taught by Epictetus and Marcus Aurelius: that happiness does not come from the world’s compliance, but from the spirit’s resilience.

History offers many examples of those who have lived this principle — who found joy not in ease, but in the mastery of hardship. Consider the story of Sir Ernest Shackleton, the Antarctic explorer. His mission to cross the frozen continent failed utterly: his ship was crushed, his crew stranded among the ice. Yet through unimaginable cold, hunger, and danger, Shackleton never lost spirit. He endured, and in that endurance found greatness. Like the golfer who returns again and again to the course despite defeat, Shackleton’s joy lay not in success, but in the test itself. His was a masochism of the spirit — the capacity to find meaning in the struggle that would have destroyed lesser souls.

In this way, Keel’s quote becomes a reflection of life itself. The person who demands constant comfort, who seeks only ease, will never know the exhilaration of true achievement. But the one who dares to “beat himself to death” — who gives all, even in failure — becomes alive in a deeper sense. To love golf, or any endeavor that challenges the mind and body, is to love the dance between frustration and progress. It is to understand that pain is not the enemy, but the teacher; that difficulty refines the spirit as the flame refines gold.

The masochist, in Keel’s tongue-in-cheek sense, is not one who delights in suffering for its own sake, but one who finds joy in resilience. He knows that the game — like life — cannot be controlled, only approached with courage and humility. Each swing, no matter how flawed, becomes an act of faith: faith that through repetition and perseverance, grace will one day appear. This is why those who play golf, like those who pursue any noble path, return to it again and again. They seek not victory, but growth. They seek not mastery over the field, but mastery over the self.

Thus, the lesson of Howard Keel’s words is this: do not flee from struggle — embrace it, laugh at it, and learn from it. Whether on the green or in the greater course of life, accept that frustration is part of creation, that defeat is part of wisdom. Go out each day and “beat yourself to death” in pursuit of what matters, not because you love pain, but because you love becoming better. The ancient athletes of Greece knew this truth well: the body aches, the mind doubts, yet the soul rejoices in its own persistence.

So, my child of the living world, when you face the trials of your own game — whatever form it takes — remember Keel’s jest and its hidden strength. Find humor in your failures, grace in your mistakes, and passion in your perseverance. For the only way to truly enjoy life — as in golf — is to meet its challenges head-on, to endure its tempests with laughter, and to rise each time you fall, knowing that even the hardest struggle is proof that you are still in the game.