Professional golf may have vanished as suddenly as righteous sheep in the rapture, but the game continues one defiant tee shot at a time. In some areas recreational golf actually picked up, a development that was as surprising as the speed with which COVID-19 turned the world on its head.
On Saturday, less than 24 hours after President Trump declared a national emergency over this global pandemic, and not quite two days after the PGA Tour, LPGA Tour and Augusta National announced postponements that effectively shuttered the professional game, Braelinn Golf Club in Peachtree City, Ga., hosted a St. Patrick’s Day two-man scramble where a field of 27 teams comprising 54 players rolled out in an early-morning modified shotgun start. Most teams coordinated outfits for the occasion. One group of four included two guys in saffron kilts, complete with sporran and sgian, while their fellow competitors wore pea-green knickers with matching argyle socks and touring caps.
Not one group canceled, nor did the nearly 100 other players who rolled out to the club after them. From 7:30 a.m. through 5 p.m., the tee sheet at Braelinn was full, as was the range, the putting green and the restaurant. Social spacing didn’t seem to be a concern. Hitting bays were at most 5 feet apart and cart seats put players as close as 5 inches from one another. Because it’s Georgia, men held clubhouse doors open for women and no one hesitated to pass the salt and pepper up and down the fully packed bar.
So, are the residents of Peachtree City, who continued to fill the first tee of their local courses throughout the weekend, daredevils? Are they fatalistic? Is this a separatist sect that doesn’t believe in science or who somehow think they are immune from infectious diseases?
The local high schools closed on Friday and will remain so for at least two weeks, out of what has become one of the most heavily used euphemisms in the country, “an abundance of caution.” But rather than remain quarantined, kids came to the golf course in droves, many playing with their parents while others just hung out on the putting green with friends.
It wasn’t just one course. According to Braelinn head pro Michael Pater, “Every tee time in Peachtree City is booked. It’s pretty amazing.” That includes four and a half courses, 81 holes, in a town of 35,000 people.
Before you assume that this is a village of hapless Southern rubes who think coronavirus is a hangover from Mexican beer, consider that Peachtree City, located 22 miles south of Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport – among the busiest airports in the world and one of only a handful designated to intake U.S. citizens returning from Europe and Asia – has one of the highest average incomes in the region. The local high schools consistently produce the best standardized test scores and college admission rates in the state among public schools. And they have more kids per capita admitted to Ivy League universities and U.S. service academies than any town in Georgia.

This is not an uneducated bunch. They are, however, among the highest risk for exposure to any pandemic. The leading employer is the airline industry. In fact, Peachtree City was built in the late 1950s as base housing for the pilots of Delta and Eastern airlines, a planned enclave with large setbacks, lots of green space, strict sign ordinances, parks, lakes, an outdoor amphitheater and 100 miles of golf cart paths connecting every part of town with the next. To date, Peachtree City has registered 15,000 golf carts that can be found everywhere from the Chick-fil-A parking lot, which has designated golf cart parking, to the library, doctor’s offices, churches and everywhere in between. It’s almost impossible to engage socially without at least one person being a pilot, a flight attendant or in some way connected to air travel.
So, are the residents of Peachtree City, who continued to fill the first tee of their local courses throughout the weekend, daredevils? Are they fatalistic? Is this a separatist sect that doesn’t believe in science or who somehow think they are immune from infectious diseases?
It turns out, they are realists, people who gather as much information as possible and base their behavior on what they learn. Every hour the news seemingly changes and people throughout the country are modifying their behavior accordingly. A bar that was full on Friday night might have been empty on Monday. But golf, at least on a recreational level in this microcosm, continues to be an outlet where social distancing meets outdoor engagement.
“Look, I think I might have already had (COVID-19) before anyone really knew what it was,” said Eric Shaufauser, a resident who played on Saturday with his 16-year-old daughter. “I thought it was just a strange case of the flu that settled in my chest and stayed. But what I’ve read and heard now, I wouldn’t be at all surprised. You just have to be careful.”
Another resident said, “Look, you have to live your life. Of course, how you conduct yourself professionally and personally are two different things. I had a salesperson who works for me who said he was uncomfortable flying to St. Louis last week. As a professional, it would be irresponsible for me to pressure that person or any person to travel in this climate. But I’m going to continue to play golf. I wash more. I don’t shake hands as often. But you can’t shut down. You keep on living.”
Not every club in every town is the same. Residents of Chicago and Washington state and areas throughout the Northeast are lamenting the locked doors at their clubs amid coronavirus fears. Even a large outdoor driving range with plenty of room for social spacing in Coral Gables, Fla., shut down until further notice because of COVID-19.
But if Peachtree City, Ga., is any indication, golf, like the will of those who play it, is stronger and more resilient than we know.