I didn’t come to Stoicism through golf. I came to it during a very difficult period of my life. I studied it because I wanted to understand myself — my reactions, my habits, the way I handled pressure, frustration, and the parts of life that don’t go the way you planned.

I’m not good at you. Not even close. You know that and I know that. I’m below average in a way that would bother me in almost anything else. But for some reason, that’s part of why I keep coming back. You’re a lifelong pursuit I’ll never perfect, and strangely, that feels like home.

Some names are declarations; this one is more of a nudge. I’m particularly drawn to the word virtue and the steadiness it implies — not perfection, not purity, just the ongoing effort to do things the right way. “Virtuous Golf” isn’t claiming expertise or moral authority. It’s simply pointing toward the kind of player I’m trying to become:

Let’s be clear before anyone gets the wrong idea and starts blaming me for their swing problems or spiritual decline.

I am not an authority on golf. I’m barely a functioning participant. Most rounds feel like a low‑budget psychological experiment where the subject — me — keeps failing the same test with admirable consistency.