In my case, it was an admission that my Dad's obsession with hitting a little white ball around a well-maintained paddock and into a hole, not once but 18 times, was a legitimate and enjoyable way to spend the day.
My childhood memories of golf consisted of playing in father-daughter tournaments and having all my air-shots counted as strokes (which didn't make sense to my 7-year-old brain), and playing on the Piopio golf course, where you yelled "fore" not to protect other golfers, but to warn the sheep maintaining the fairway to get out of the way.
Landing on a dry piece of sheep dung was always a bonus, but landing on a freshly laid heap was the opposite, and it took ages to clean the ball afterwards.
Over Easter, the family turned up on my doorstep in force, and watching the Masters was compulsory family time.
I never admitted it at the time but I actually enjoyed watching the athleticism (or lack of it in some cases), the drama and the personalities unfold as the competitors walked, hit, hacked and putted their way around Augusta National.
Watching golf was a nice break from the oval-ball variety of sport I tend to be obsessed with.
Despite the economic recession, things at Augusta seem to stay constant. (Perhaps that is also reflected in their attitudes towards women.) The weather was great, the big names came out to play, and 34 eagles and 977 birdies were recorded.
I found myself oohing and aahing and holding my breath as golfers went for putts, failed to miss bunkers, trees and water hazards, and pulled off the most amazing shots.
Robin Williams summed up golf quite accurately as a game invented by the Scottish to mess with your mind - a strange club, hazards all over the place and a flag at the end just to give you hope.
Since it was Easter, it seemed appropriate that a 39-year-old Angel became the lowest-ranked player to win the coveted green jacket since 1986.
Cabrera had to deal with pressure, not only from Kenny Perry and Chad Campbell in the play-off, but also from Phil Mickelson and Tiger Woods, who threatened from behind with birdies and eagles galore.
The resurrection of Tiger is almost complete, and despite his Band-Aid swing he still manages to play an outstanding round of golf.
Lady Luck and being in the zone eluded New Zealanders Michael Campbell and Danny Lee, who failed to make the cut.
But on a positive note, it looks like Lee will sign a pro golf deal with sports management giant IMG reported to be worth US$10 million ($NZ17 million). Eighteen years old and already being offered millions.
Golf allows personalities to come to the fore, and along with Argentinian Angel, Tenacious Tiger, Cowboy (Shingo) Katayama and the Mighty Mickelson, there was the biggest loser, John Daly, kicking off his comeback tour at the Masters.
As one columnist said, his personal life sounded like a bad country and western song, and maybe that is why Daly has a cult following.
So, in closing, I'll have to admit (to myself but not to Dad) that golf can be interesting to watch on television, and now that I'm retired from rugby perhaps I'll pick up those second-hand golf clubs he bought me a while back and give this midlife obsession a hack.
