Golfistry

A taste of wine, a flash of memory, and the lessons we’ve learned

Something unlocked the moment I tasted that wine. Its structure, its restraint, its quiet confidence carried me back to 2018—the year I had set as make-or-break for my dating life. Every decision felt urgent, every outcome final.

I had a list. Several ladies, each with different qualities. I made what I thought was a rational choice: I aimed lower. I assumed the “worse” option would be easier to pursue, easier to win. I poured everything I had into that path.

The lady with the best qualities—the one I admired most—I noticed her, respected her, but dismissed her too quickly. I told myself she was out of reach. I lacked money, status, leverage.

Looking back, the irony is clear. The “worst” option was the hardest to pursue, and even if I had succeeded, the relationship would have been doomed. The best option—the one I truly wanted—was far more suitable, and paradoxically, far easier to be with than all the others.

She enjoyed my company. She welcomed me into her home. Night after night, she treated me to dinner at her mansion and poured a wine that would later become unforgettable: Opus One. Years later, I would taste another wine—Kirkland Signature Margaux, a Bordeaux-style blend—and be instantly transported back to those dinners, the same quiet elegance, the same depth, the same sense of something meaningful unfolding slowly, deliberately, if only I had known how to remain present.

At the time, I failed to recognize it. I was optimizing for perceived probability instead of expected value. I mistook patience and humility for inadequacy and passivity.

What I learned is simple but costly: time is an asset, and I misallocated it. I should have invested it in cultivating the right relationship, been honest about my shortcomings, and patient enough to let growth happen.

Bordeaux-style wines are not designed to impress immediately. They reward restraint. They punish impatience. So do high-quality people.

She may never be part of my life now. That opportunity has passed. But the lesson remains: in the future, I will aim upward—reaching for the best rather than settling for the convenient. What feels “out of reach” is often not impossible; it simply requires patience.