Why is the logo a skull?
Imagine that the whole pursuit is a memento mori. The anxiety that collects before a round. The cycle of expectation, hopes perhaps grow and sustain or are dashed. The arbitrariness of the pursuit needs a counterpoise. It’s not substantial enough without a reminder of its insubstantiality.
Do something pretty, while you can.
There’s nothing quite like climbing into a narrow bunker. It looks, smells and sounds like it might a pine box. We might not be able to even get the club around. It’s an uncomfortable lie. Death in there is a big number. It’s a trudge through hourglass sand. Part of us might not make it out.
But if we can get up, we can get down. The green is a relief, especially when we can’t see it. It’s behind a tree. It’s beyond our subterranean horizon. It’s the best thing to see in golf, perhaps: the green, from a distance. The pin is in, the ball is visible. Now we have a long walk with our putter in our hands, with time enough to think through how to roll it.
Why is the logo a skull?