WARNING: This article is a perspective piece and has the capability to trigger some folks. This article shares insights from a completely different hobby/profession for evaluation and is not intended to discourage anyone from pursuing their goals or dreams, but rather to remind us why we engage in these activities in the first place.
The dream
There’s something beautifully absurd about both golf and music—two pursuits where people willingly spend thousands of dollars and countless hours chasing dreams of being famous that statistically have about the same likelihood as being struck by lightning while holding the winning lottery ticket.
The Sweet Swing of Encouragement
Meet Dave. Dave just hit a beautiful drive down the fairway of the 7th hole at his local municipal course. The ball sailed through the air with unexpected grace, landing softly and rolling to a perfect position.
“Damn, Dave! That was professional quality right there,” his buddy Mike exclaimed.
Something changed in Dave at that moment. That single compliment—probably just Mike’s way of saying “nice shot” with extra enthusiasm—planted a seed.
This scene plays out similarly in homes across America. Jessica strums the final chord of “Wonderwall” on her starter guitar, and her roommate nods appreciatively, “You should totally play open mic night!”
Investment Season
The following week, Dave walks into Academy Sports with a glint in his eye. His ancient hand-me-down clubs suddenly seemed inadequate for a man of his newly discovered talent. Two hours and $1,200 later, Dave emerges with a shiny new driver that promises an extra 15 yards and “improved forgiveness.” He adds a $40 sleeve of premium balls—because professionals use the best.
Meanwhile, Jessica is scrolling through guitar center online. Her $200 starter guitar clearly cannot capture the nuances of her developing technique. A $1,500 Taylor guitar enters her life, along with a $300 amplifier, because you never know when you might need to plug in.
Practice Makes Perfect (or at least Better)
Dave now spends every Saturday morning at the driving range. His wife notices his absences but says nothing as he drops $25 per session to hit balls. He downloads swing analysis apps ($9.99/month) and subscribes to Golf Digest ($24.99/year). He watches YouTube videos of Tiger Woods and tries to emulate that perfect swing.
Jessica finds herself declining social invitations to practice her songs. She enrolls in guitar lessons ($100/month) and buys a Ed Sheeran loop pedal ($299) because she knows she will need it. She listens to John Mayer interviews about his creative process while commuting to work because she plans to write a banger over the weekend.
The Local Circuit
Six months later, Dave enters his first local tournament. The $75 entry fee seems reasonable for the opportunity to test his skills. He doesn’t place in the top ten, but he does receive compliments on a tricky par save on the 12th hole. The smattering of applause when he sinks a 15-footer is intoxicating.
Jessica performs at her first open mic night. She doesn’t get paid, but the bar owner mentions that if she develops a following, they might discuss a future gig. Three people approach her afterward to say they enjoyed her performance. One asks if she’s on Spotify. She is clearly headed for the big time.
Doubling Down
Dave is now spending $250 monthly on his golf habit between green fees, range sessions, and the occasional lesson. He joins a golf club with a $3,000 initiation fee and $200 monthly dues because “that’s where connections happen.” His handicap is dropping, and he’s consistently the best player in his friend group.
Jessica buys a $800 microphone, a $600 interface, and $200 recording software because she can record just as good as the studios and she plans to be an independent artist. She spends hours recording covers for YouTube and Instagram, gaining 230 followers. She ends up getting a couple gigs at restaurants and gets paid $100 to entertain folks while they consume the “all you can eat wings” special, receiving applause for her rendition of cumbersome.
The Dream
Dave watches the Masters and sees himself in those pristine green fairways. People in his club say he could “go pro if he started younger.” He’s now in his mid-thirties but starts researching senior tours. At night, he calculates how much he needs to practice to reach professional status, ignoring the fact that most PGA Tour players have been playing since they could walk. Dave is obsessed with proving something, it’s no longer about fun.
Jessica streams the Grammys, imagining herself on that stage. Her coworkers tell her she’s “wasting her talent” at her day job and she is looking to quit and do this full time. She starts looking into how to get her music on streaming platforms, dreams about being discovered, and spends nights considering whether she should move to Nashville or Los Angeles. Jessica is obsessed with proving something, it is no longer about fun.
The Reality Check
Let’s look at some numbers:
There are approximately 25 million golfers in the United States. Of those, only about 125 are full-time players on the PGA Tour in any given year. That’s a success rate of 0.0005%.
Similarly, there are millions of musicians in the U.S. Of those, perhaps a few hundred achieve the “household name” status that most aspiring musicians dream about—a similar microscopic percentage. There are over 100,000 songs put on Spotify in a single day from musicians.
The average amateur golfer spends between $2,000 and $10,000 per year on their hobby. Professional-track golfers often spend upwards of $100,000 annually on coaching, travel, and tournament fees before they earn a single dollar.
Musicians face similar economics: instruments, recording equipment, merchandise production, travel expenses, and marketing often cost tens of thousands before any meaningful revenue arrives.
Despite the odds, Dave and Jessica have something to prove and take offense to reality. Admittedly, I admire people with passion that go the extra distance, as long as they are competent in the odds.
So, Why Do We Do It?
So why do millions continue these seemingly irrational pursuits?
Because that pure moment—when the club face meets the ball perfectly and you watch it soar exactly where you intended, or when your fingers find those chords and your voice hits that note and the room falls silent in appreciation—is transcendent, addictive, and ultimately… it makes us feel important and is fun.
These pursuits offer something increasingly rare: the opportunity to be completely present. When you’re lining up a putt or performing a song, nothing else matters. There’s no email to check, no social media to scroll. Just you and the moment and it is intoxicating, especially when others can be a part of it.
They also provide community. The golf foursome that meets every Saturday morning isn’t just playing a game; they’re sharing life. The musicians who gather for jam sessions or contribute to a community aren’t just people, they’re family which share common bonds.
The Take Away
What starts as “play” often transforms into “work” which changes the dynamic greatly. The joy of hitting a good shot becomes overshadowed by frustration when you can’t replicate it consistently. The thrill of creating music gets buried under the pressure to “make it.”
Dave and Jessica both started because they found something that brought them joy. But somewhere along the way, the joy became secondary to validation or to prove something.
The irony is that most professional golfers and musicians will tell you the same thing: the process has to be the reward. Tiger Woods didn’t become Tiger Woods by obsessing over being Tiger Woods. He became Tiger Woods by loving golf more than anything and putting in the work every day, regardless of outcome.
So by all means, buy the new driver if it makes you happy. Invest in that guitar if it inspires you to play more. Enter tournaments. Play open mics and spend money doing it if it makes you happy. Chase improvement.
But don’t forget to smile and enjoy the journey. Keeping it fun and remembering why you did it in the first place will often breed more success.
I’m not suggesting to ever give up on dreams, rather embrace it for what it is and don’t forget why you started the journey.
Once you figure out you don’t need to prove anything and it’s ok to actually enjoy things without being famous, you may find the pressure goes away and the future just happens without the stress you put on yourself.
I hope our community produces a household name in music or golf, but I don’t want anyone to turn what was enjoyable into something so serious that it creates stress and negative feelings about what once brought joy.
That’s why they call it “playing golf” and “playing music”. Let’s get to playing folks but most importantly, having fun.