Frisbee Golf

The game played by oily hippies with dreads and bandanas. It’s for the younger generation who has know clue how to swing a golf club, or would rather not wear plaid pants while chasing a white ball that they’ll likely lose a hundred times. The game is similar to golf yet you’re throwing a disc around a frisbee golf course. The pars throughout the course are like that of the original game—par 3, 4, and 5—all in relation to the distance of the hole. The holes although are netted chains attached to an erect pole. The object of the game is to hit the ‘hole’ in the least amount of throws as possible.
A friend of mine named Trey had asked me to join him for lunch and then after our meal, make our way to play a quick eighteen. We stepped up to the first tee box and he pointed to the hole—it was a green transformer box. I looked at him and laughed, not taking him seriously because this guy can at times be a walking joke. His witty brain always has something hysterical to voice.
“Are you serious?” I asked him while laughing.
Trey chuckled while describing to me that all the ‘golfers’ on the campus were upset with the real course, so the students made up their own. My initial thought was “We will look like idiots throwing frisbees at silly, everyday objects instead of playing the real course.” He threw his frisbee toward the transformer box, so like every other follower in this world, I was right behind the leader’s path. Trey made par and I ‘tapped in’ for my bogey, barely missing the four foot by four foot tin box on my par throw. I was already one over after the first hole and we had seventeen remaining.
The next hole was another par three, which come to find out later after the sixth or seventh hole, every hole on the course was a par three. I’m guessing the hippies didn’t want to think too much about numbers while being in an euphoric state. Too many numbers and weed tend to run everything together.
The hole for number two was a fifteen foot rhodideron tree. I knew at this point that this newly innovated campus game was to say the least, ‘hilarious.’ I never have dull moments with Trey. He can make any moment a comedy if he is willing to open his mouth.
Well, after nine or ten holes of trees, a fire hydrant, a couple of telephone poles, an electrical pole or two, and more trees, I came to the realization that I suck at the game. I can only imagine my score if I had to play the original course with the netted chains.
But I was having a blast on the course. The day was beautiful. It was sunny, seventy degrees with a gentle wind blowing, and I don’t think we could have had more fun throwing circular discs at random objects. I threw my frisbee once into a tree where it was wedged into a few limbs. The disc never fell, so I had to climb the tree in order to continue in the game. I was raised playing golf, so like a true etiquette-player, I took my next shot from the tree—“you have to play it were it lies” is what I’ve always been told, so I did.
We finished our game and we walked through the campus where Trey had to check on his lab experiment in the Biology department. I sat outside, enjoying the weather, and watching the students make their travels from class to class. It seemed to me that these people knew I didn’t attend this specific college. They looked carefully at me as they passed by. I know I’m a goofy-looking guy that likes to dress weird, but how is it that these students realized my presence as ‘alien’? I was wearing white framed sunglasses, which I’ve been told several times that their ‘cool’, and other times I’ve been told that they’re ‘girly’. Besides the shades, I think it was just me being insecure. These students don’t actually know if I was an outsider, it was just me instigating this gut-feeling awkwardness. Maybe I was the one perceiving these students as foreign figures? The relationship that I was characterizing was my own reaction towards these people. I was labeling them as distant beings, therefore, I thought they were reiterating the same idea.
I continued to watch these people walk past me. I looked around, sort of laid back, relaxing the weight of my body on my arms which were stretched out behind me, and I turned my head to the left where my eyes caught an object. It was a fire hydrant. But no ordinary fire hydrant, it was one of our ‘holes’ on the frisbee golf course. I glanced at the stereotypical red water hydrant and back to more students and teachers. I looked at the students and teachers, then my attention was fixed back on the hydrant. There was something there, eager to be discovered. Fire hydrant, people. People, fire hydrant. What was boggling my mind?
How often do we walk in our everyday lives past another individual? Everyday, right? Well, how often do we walk past people and acknowledge their presence? Not everyday, right? My journeys from class to class can somedays be very open, meaning that I speak to quite a few people that I do and don’t know. Then, there are days that I’m walking to my own theme song that is playing through my Ipod. I’m placing this wall of anti-socialism around me by ‘keeping to myself.’ My social mood has a great correlation to what mood I’m in. Good days equal social and bad days equal anti-social. It’s a simple philosophy that we all share in common. When we see one of our friends in a bad mood, do we feel inclined to jump into conversation? No. Rather, we adjust our moods to level out the atmosphere. Every human on this earth alters their mood or characteristics in effect to stabliize the environment. Too much pressure in a room causes chaos, and not enough pressure catalyzes chaos.
Communication is one of the greatest ways of relating ourselves to another individual. Within our communication, we have the power to destoy or the power to enjoy. Humans need other humans, it’s a simple fact. If we shut ourselves off from the rest of the world, then we self-destruct. I’ve never met a sociable hermit. They really don’t like talking, you know? Living in isolation, keeping their feelings, their beliefs bottled within the secluded and separated bodies they dwell in is habitual. I’m sure it’s difficult, and more importantly, depressing.
The next person we stride past may be, in our minds, just another object in this world. Just a mere human on their own journey unconnected and indifferent from us. We step, looking forward, day-dreaming, people watching, and never knowing that our voice has the power to prevent a suicide, a murder, or violence in whatever form it could materialize into. Maybe the simple sound from the depths of our lungs could create the most influential relationship we never imagined.
I never realized that a fire hydrant, a tree, or a pole could transform into something more than what it already is. Yes, we threw discs at these things but in the process, there was a bond between an object and me. A common object I see everyday but I had to make an effort in order for a complete connection to be accomplished. Frisbee golf did show me that I shouldn’t expect a career in the game, but more importantly, it illustrated that this world is full of objects waiting for us to connect to.