Forest Park is about the journey, not the destination.

I rolled up to the 9th tee box at Forest Park golf course in Queens, the sun beaming down yet its heat seemingly blocked by a smooth, everlasting breeze. The course was short at 6,000 yards, although that’s about average for NYC, with tree lined fairways and holes snaking to the left and right. But, the course had a way of never making me feel boxed in. As I stepped up to plug my tee between the markers, I noticed a foursome standing about 5 yards left of the green, right off the fringe. I was about to shout a warning when I realized that the group was standing on a tee box, aiming the other way, not even 20 feet from my pin. Immediately, I started cracking up, completely bewildered by the scene, only to laugh harder when I saw the tee box was sandwiched; there was yet another green opposite the one I was aiming towards. 3 holes, two tee boxes and a green, all sandwiched in a space that couldn’t be longer than 40 yards. God, you just have to love New York City golf.

When my buddy James messaged me to go play at Forest Park, my first thought was “how the hell am I gonna get there?” Luckily, I like to walk, and the J train would drop me about 20 minutes from the clubhouse. Although I didn’t know what to expect or exactly how to get there, I hopped on the subway on Houston street, went under water in the tunnel, then enjoyed my 30 minute ride above ground, a luxury that Manhattan does not have. When I hopped off the train, I was right in the middle of Jamaica Ave, with the park only a few blocks away. I walked through the quaintly suburban streets until I got to a sign that read Forest Park. That’s when the real trip began. Cue 15 minutes of hiking trails, climbing stairs, ducking branches, and understanding where the name Forest Park comes from. It got dense, and I got a bit lost, and with only 20 minutes until my tee time, it was a little dicey. But, after finding one snaking trail, I emerged onto a roadway with a sign directing me to the golf course across the street. After crossing the surprisingly busy road, and climbing another set of stairs both up and down, I emerged into a parking lot. Kind of anti-climactic, but I could see rolling waves of grass only a few hundred yards in the distance. The pro shop is just like the course, compact but has everything you need. Lots of types of balls, a well priced and diverse menu at their bar and grill, and a wide selection of hats and polos gave the pro shop that classic feel that lets you know that these people have been in the business for a long time. My only gripe, and one that I honestly had come to terms with before I even arrived, was that the rental set was pretty… well let’s just say old fashioned. Try and avoid renting here if you want to try and be competitive, especially if you’re a lefty, although that also goes without saying. All I wanted was an afternoon whacking at a ball, score be damned, so I was satisfied. And to be fair, the trek to the course with a bag on my back would have taken a toll on me, so that was nice to hike without equipment for the day.

We got our cart, a hot dog, some beers, and our playing partners, then headed to the first tee. Probably the straightest hole we played all day, it was a direct line to the hole, just with a huge elevation dip about halfway through. After picking up my driver for the first time, I knew it was going to be a rough day, which was confirmed after I shanked my first two drives into a tree. After dropping with James in the fairway, I knew that my game today was nothing more than just “don’t hit it into the woods every time”, a day that every golfer hates, yet they know is unavoidable. Some days, you just don’t have the right stuff. James, on the other hand, definitely had what I was lacking, and he fired a smooth 81 right in front of me complete with multiple birdies and a bunch of pars. His first round with his new irons, safe to say he enjoyed them. I shot a respectable 90 complete with 1 measly par, which I honestly was not too mad with given my equipment circumstances. Before my round, all I had said to myself was “don’t shoot over 90, and don’t get mad.” I kept my expectations low, and it made it easy to succeed. This definitely helped make this round one of the more enjoyable ones in the past few weeks, not to mention that our playing partners were solid golfers and great company. If I had set my expectations for myself too high, not only would I have enjoyed the round less, but I would have also probably shot over 90. 

It’s easy to know what to expect at a New York City course. Yet, Forest Park surprised me with its layout. Elevation is common, but most other courses do not twist and turn as much as this one. It helped bring a level of strategy to the tee shots and approaches that I was not expecting, yet I welcomed it. The course has thick, long grass, but other than a few tee boxes, not much dirt, they definitely know how to maintain their fescue. It comes with a price, as the ball would sometimes be hard to find or hit, but it was usually on a surface resembling a well maintained golf course. The greens were definitely adventurous, some long and narrow, others huge circles, others obtuse with large bumps or ridged valleys jutting right through the middle. It made putting challenging and creative, but unfortunately, the greens were a little slower than I was used to, and I was constantly leaving things short and dealing with phantom breaks I thought I saw, yet they didn’t exist. Once James said he had just been lining up with the hole and blasting it (and we all know how he played) I adjusted, and started putting a lot better. 

Other than the little traffic jam at hole 9, with the two greens sandwiching a tee box, the course really gave you the space you needed to play golf without feeling like everyone is playing on top of you, which is a problem I’ve had at other city courses. It’s a staple of NYC golf to hear “FORE” ring out from the trees every 10 minutes or so, and I’m happy to report that this was the familiar case here as well. All the other golfers we encountered were pleasant, and although our round was long, that is again something to be expected at a course like this, especially on a Friday. For all the people that come to these courses and play golf, you would think that the city government would invest accordingly, but that’s an article for another day. The starters and rangers were all old and curt, but respectful, exactly what a course like this is suited for. After our round, James and I had a beer with our partners, something I have never done before. That alone should show the kind of people and experience that a golf course like this can bring. But, I was given an even better reason when I started my trek back to the subway only to find one of our new buddies skating around the parking lot, hitting pop shuvits as easily as he did driver and iron. I smiled and laughed for maybe the hundredth time that day, relishing the fact that golf can bring so much joy, excitement, and adventure, without even leaving New York City.