You see the sign on the perimeter of the large, open, green, warm, soft, inviting, totally-sexable-on field and your heart (and balls) sink slightly. There goes your romantic February foray into sexual exploration. Sex, you manage to formulate in your hormonal teenage brain, is, while a sport involving the intrusion of holes, a sport other than golf.
You'll have to find another venue for your extrapanticular activities. Your dick will have to frolic elsewhere.