| |
|
I learned to play golf when I was about 14. My Dad learned shortly before me from Mr. Jerome, another Dad down the street from us. I started going out with them on Saturday or Sunday mornings in San Francisco. He would hand me a 5 iron and a ball and I just had to stay out of the way until we got to the green. During the summer, before I could drive, I would walk almost a mile to McClaran (now Glen Eagles) with my friends, play a few 9 hole rounds, then walk or beg a ride home from one of our parents. When I started driving, I would sometimes drive to McClaren after work, park on the street at the 3rd tee, sneak through the fence, and play a few holes before dark.
I continued to play, on and off, for the rest of my life. It was tough to get away for an entire day during the child-rearing days, but it did happen once in a while with Rob and/or David. I didn't even keep score then; I just enjoyed getting out with a couple friends.
But then the kids were gone, I started going out with June, and I started playing golf on a more regular basis. I joined a golf league at work, playing mostly with Geoff. I was getting better (more consistent) and started keeping an index. Geoff once said just before we retired, "I'll bet you're down to single digits within a year". I didn't believe it at the time. I'm not even sure when it happened, but now, three years after retiring, my index has gotten down to 8.5.
After playing for as long as I have, some memories seem to stick better than others. Rounds with good friends are always fun, but hopefully not all that rare. Personal best (PB) rounds are also memorable. Good shot, or holes that I played especially well, are always fun to remember.