Golf in Japan

So, I golfed!

Honestly, I didn’t think I’d have a chance to get in a round before Spring, so I left almost all of my golfing attire for my mother-in-law to bring at the end of November. That didn’t end up being that big of a deal, as I’d managed to buy a sweater and button-up shirt from Uniqlo a week ago or so. However, that mindset also drove me to ditch my nearly dead golf glove, and mostly defective divot fixer. I’d have months to find replacements anyhow! All of this could have been avoided had I actually looked into my golf bag before the morning of my round. After all, Seri and I had been inside–and even purchased things from!–a golf store only days before. It would have been trivial to buy a new glove and a tool. Whoops.

Seri’s uncle picked us up at 9am to drive us to the course. Our tee time was 10:15am, and although the course we played, Ambix, is technically in Hakodate, it’s on the far west side of the town, and there’s a lot of city-driving to get there. I scarfed down a few eggs as he arrived, and we headed out.

Seri came with us. Because I’d only lived in Japan for 23 days at that point, my Japanese was “pretty rusty” (read: basically non-existent) and having a translator on-hand seemed like A Good Idea. Her uncle also invited a friend, so we were technically a 4-some even though Seri didn’t play.

At first sight, the course seemed similar to a high-end hotel. I’m not sure if this is something to be expected as I play more golf or if it was reserved for certain types of courses (i.e., more old-school). As we approached the porte-cochère, three women walked to the car, bowed, and proceeded to take our clubs and bags. Seri and I walked into the lobby while her uncle parked the car. The lobby, again, seemed like something out of a hotel: it was two stories, with a small reception desk and a large, open area with sparse seating and a small shop area. I used this time to look for a golf glove, worried that they might not stock right handed gloves (for lefties). We found a single set from an unfamiliar brand, but anything was better than nothing. Briefly looking for divot repair tools, I found none, which seemed odd.

With the car parked, Seri’s uncle got us all checked in. The staff addressed him as Matsubara-san. He was clearly a regular, by the way they talked to him, although he admitted he was not a member there. He was treated all the same. They checked us in and gave us leatherbound score cards. I’ve never been a member of a golf club, but this small detail–at a public course no less–seemed nice.

While Seri waited in the lobby, her uncle and I headed to the locker room to change. He let me know that in the back of our score card book was a pocket that hid a key to our assigned, full-sized locker. It felt pretty fancy, honestly. I only needed to change my shoes and stash my day bag, but the wooden locker door with detailed brass pull and wooden hangers made it feel a bit more upscale than say… Chabot. I quickly changed into my golf shoes and headed back to the lobby.

Outside, we met our partner, a friend Seri’s uncle met while bowling years ago. He was a great guy and was very welcoming.

Our cart had been prepped, and the starter let us know we were good to go. In contrast to every US course I’ve been to, our cart seated 4. This was convenient, as Seri could translate while the other two pointed out things along the way. The cart itself was on the older side, and was gas-powered. It took a while to get up to speed and smelled pretty bad whenever we exited, but it had some pretty nice amenities: we had our own water bucket to dunk our clubs into for cleaning, and a dedicated putter holder (although this seemed less than ideal as I’d rather not shove a bunch of putters into a single compartment).

The course itself was great. The fairways were very well maintained, and the view from a number of tees was spectacular. One thing I couldn’t believe, however, were the divots. I wouldn’t bring it up if it were just a few, but the number of fat divots on these greens was astounding. I looked this up after the round, to see what was going on: there’s at least anecdotal evidence that Japanese golfers–especially older golfers–don’t fix divots, because when golf started getting big in Japan in the ’80s, everyone had caddies. Golf was for the elite, and that’s historically been the job of the caddy. No wonder they didn’t sell divot tools in the shop! Well, we didn’t have caddies, but they treated it all the same, while I scrambled to fix as many as I could find with my tee. I even made a huge divot right in the line of Seri’s uncle’s ball, and he almost didn’t give me time to fix it before simply putting it past me. Back home, I’d be chastised if that were the case. Be that as it may, I’m buying a divot tool. Maybe I’ll start a divot-repairing revolution.

On one of the early holes, a par 4, I (completely-unpredictably-because-I-never-do-this-why-are-you-laughing) sliced the ball out of bounds. The course was pretty tight, and I expected to just go to where my ball went out and drop up there. Seri’s uncle pointed to a sign at the tee box that mentioned if you go OB on your drive, to move up to the markers and you’ll be playing 4. I was kind of miffed I’d lose another shot as my penalty would have been a single stroke in the US, but I was kind of amazed where the markers ended up being. Again, I’m not sure if this is a feature only of this course or something Japan “does,” but about 100 yards out of the green were two large, yellow markers, at either end of the fairway. Apparently I was able to drop my ball anywhere along that line and shoot from there. Now, it’s possible I could have made it onto the green in 3 with a lateral penalty, but more often than not I find myself so far left that I end up beneath a tree, or just without a great line of sight. This seemed like a pretty acceptable compromise, and I was on the green with my next shot.

Another interesting difference was the lack of a cart roaming around with snacks and drinks. While there were a couple of restrooms along the way on both the front and back 9s, and those restrooms had typical Japanese vending machines, they didn’t sell alcohol. Seri’s uncle mentioned they stuck to canned coffee or sports drinks while on the course. I didn’t mind that, actually. Sometimes, especially on the weekends, alcohol just serves to slow down the pace as players’ games get worse and ball-hunting shoots up the more that’s imbibed.

Having said that, though, one difference I was prepared for before coming here was the addition of a lunch break after 9 holes. We finished the front 9 and headed into the clubhouse, and up the stairs, to the restaurant. Included in our round were a number of options, like ramen, udon, and tonkatsu. Or you could order premium dishes for a bit more. All told, a hefty lunch (were it not included in the price of the round) would’ve run us the equivalent of $9 USD. Our fourth and I each ordered a beer, we leisurely ate our meals, and headed back to start the rest of the round. Lunch took about 30 minutes, which was quicker than I had expected, but it felt nice to take the break. I didn’t feel rushed like when you have to scarf down a hot dog at the turn to not get leapfrogged.

The back 9 was mostly the same as the front, with the exception of some incredibly narrow bridges over somewhat sizable canyons. Another interesting sight was the installation of moving walkways at various holes. These were generally placed near the green of one hole, to get golfers to the tee of the next, particularly on greens/tees with large height disparities. It looked so convenient! I’ll be on the lookout for these at other courses. Hopefully it’s not unique to Ambix.

After the 18th, we finished up our scorecards and headed back to the clubhouse. They had an area with 4 compressed air guns for cleaning off your shoes, along with wet rags to wipe them afterwards, which was appreciated. I’ve played at courses in Oakland that look down on you if you try to use their gun after a round (reserved for cleaning the carts, I guess?). They take the after-round shoe cleaning seriously out here, I’m told.

Under normal circumstances, we then might’ve continued through the locker room into the course’s onsen to unwind. Ambix, and I’m told a number of other courses, provide public baths for golfers after their rounds. Seri’s uncle mentioned that had we been playing in the spring or summer, and had worked up a sweat, we would have taken a dip. Part of me worries about going in with my tattoo, especially since I’m no longer just on a short vacation–I live here!–but that’s a battle for another day.