The short answer: I hate mini golf. I know this is an aggressively low-stakes opinion, but the tiny pencils, fake rocks, impossible standing space and 18-hole commitment have pushed me past diplomacy.

1. Mini Golf Gets Expensive Surprisingly Fast
I have done the group-of-eight calculation and watched a goofy little putting excursion wander frighteningly close to $100.
For that kind of money, I would like an activity that does not hand me a pencil designed for a squirrel.
2. The First Three Holes Lie to You
The windmill is cute. The fake cave is cute. Maybe there is a pirate.
Then hole seven arrives and you realize you are still putting a colored ball around molded concrete while a family behind you is beginning to form a government.
3. The Score Is Mostly Performance Art
Kids take six shots and write down four. Adults stop caring somewhere around hole nine. Somebody loses the pencil. Somebody else insists there is a maximum score.
At that point we are not playing golf. We are negotiating a treaty.
4. Nobody Wants the Scorecard Job
The card is tiny. The pencil is tinier. The boxes appear to have been designed by someone who has never seen human handwriting.
5. The Decorations Are Trying Too Hard
Mini golf courses have one design rule: if an object can be made six times larger and painted a color not found in nature, do it.
I respect the commitment. I do not enjoy standing next to it.
6. There Is Nowhere to Stand
Every hole has exactly enough room for one person to putt and seven other people to discover new and uncomfortable ways to hover.
7. By the Back Nine, Cheating Becomes Self-Care
At some point, the goal quietly changes from “win” to “finish before I become part of the scenery.”
8. Children Always Want Another Round
This is the cruelest part.
The more exhausted the adults become, the more the children discover that mini golf is apparently their life’s calling.
9. Every Hole Requires a Squat
Putt. Bend down. Retrieve ball. Stand up. Repeat 18 times.
Congratulations. You paid admission for a very slow leg workout with fiberglass animals.
10. The Final-Hole Free-Game Gimmick Is a Threat
Some courses turn the final hole into a free-game challenge.
In any other activity, winning more of the activity would be a prize.
In mini golf, it feels like the building has extended my sentence.
And Yet I Will Absolutely Play Again
Because somebody’s kid will ask.
And I will complain the entire time, keep score badly, miss the easy putt, and somehow end up back beside the giant fiberglass pirate next summer.
