Belated Thanks for Golf’s Great Pleasures
Written by Daniel M
Boy, did Thanksgiving come and go in a tryptophan-induced haze. Got buried so deep in turkey and stuffing, I neglected to post this article in a timely fashion.
Having scarfed the last scrap of leftovers, here are a few of the thousand things that make me thankful to be a golfer:
Walking a deserted course, solo, first thing on a Sunday morning.
A three-and-a-half-hour round.
Courses where you can’t possibly plunk a house off the tee.
A foursome without one of the guys who top this list.
Playing partners who know when to call off the hunt for a lost ball.
The golf equipment geeks who hang out here.
Friendly starters and marshalls.
Old-school Scottish caddies, like these guys.
ShotLink, the all-knowing PGA Tour stat-keeping tool, for those occasions when I just have to know which player is most likely to bunt a drive less than 240 yards, or score the lowest with a late second-round tee time going off the 10th tee. (Seriously, it’s all in there.)
Mike Keiser (visionary founder of Bandon Dunes and Cabot Links).
The town of St. Andrews, Scotland – No. 1 on my bucket list of places to visit.
Minimalist design and the architects who practice it.
Firm, fast conditions.
19th holes that serve local microbrews.
Rory McIlroy’s swing.
Matt Kuchar’s smile.
Tiger Woods’ glare.
Luke Donald’s putting stroke.
Handheld GPS devices and rangefinders.
The USGA’s Mike Davis, whose U.S. Open setups emphasize shotmaking and imagination over hacking out sideways from ankle-deep rough.
Caddyshack quotes. Some of the best are short: “Don’t sell yourself short, Judge, you’re a tremendous slouch.” Others, classically long: “So we finish the eighteenth and he's gonna stiff me. And I say, ‘Hey, Lama, hey, how about a little something, you know, for the effort, you know.’ And he says, ‘Oh, uh, there won't be any money, but when you die, on your deathbed, you will receive total consciousness.’ So I got that goin' for me, which is nice.”
It sure is, Carl. It sure is.