A couple of weeks ago I wrote a piece that had a golfing theme. I mentioned to a friend of mine that I had written a column, and it would appear the following day. That person immediately said: “It’s not another column about golf, is it?” I smiled, “yeah, it is.”

Here comes another one.

I am sure thousands of writers have questioned willing interviewees about golf’s appeal. The answers range from the exercise and the communal relationship with nature, to the socialization and the occasional moments of brilliance. However, as you will read in the following statistics, most of us stink at the game, so why come back for more?

As recently as four years ago, nearly 29 million people in the United States above the age of six played golf. Of those players, the average male handicap is 16, while women check in at about a 29 handicap. What do those numbers mean? The average man barely breaks 90 for 18 holes, and the average woman shoots over 100.

Those statistics clearly prove that most of us struggle with posting good scores, yet that same group of players cannot wait to play their next round. It’s a game where an individual’s success (or lack thereof) does not impede his love of the game.

When my better half, Aida, moved to New York in the summer of 2009, she had barely placed her hands on a golf club other than a putter at a mini-golf course. She knew my interest (love, obsession, passion...and hate) for the game, and that alone piqued her interest. In the first 40-plus years of her life, Aida did not understand why people went nuts over the game. Whacking a dimpled ball around a course and chasing it seemed like a colossal wast of time. Plus, the time – and cost – commitment to play a round a golf did not mesh with her daily routines.

“From what I had observed on TV, I thought golf was the most boring sport on earth,” Aida said. “In high school, I tried it once with my friends. After five minutes of ground-gouging technique with a nine-iron, I came to the conclusion that golf was not only boring, but maddeningly frustrating and silly. I vowed to never give the game another thought.”

Fast forward about 30 years when she moved to Norwich. “We were living at the farmhouse with a big field out back,” she said. “You (this writer) showed me how to hold the club and swing it. I actually hit some balls, and it was kind of fun.”