Today I Finally Played Some Real Golf!, Almost

Today I graduated from the driving range to the golf course!

Mary, one of my favorite golf buddies, called a couple of days ago and asked if I was ready to play some golf. The weather has been beautiful - South Carolina winter weather, sunny, in the 60s, not much wind. I've been getting bored with the range, even though I knew my game really isn't up to speed, so we made a date. I told her I would probably only play nine holes. (I'm still rebuilding my stamina.)

Then I talked with my PT team. They assured me that my titanium knee is firmly in place and I've made good progress regaining strength in my quads and hamstrings, and encouraged me to give it a try. "Use one of your clubs like a cane if you get in uneven ground," they advised as I went out the door.

So I met Mary this morning at the golf course and we ran into two more members of our women's league, Bonnie and Alma, and decided to play a foursome.

I was tremendously excited when I stepped up to the first tee. I haven't hit a tee shot for almost twelve weeks and I've really missed golf. I wanted to mark my return with one of those Mighty Girl shots.

It wasn't my best tee shot - not anything close to my Mighty Girl fantasy - but it was far from my worst, and my knee didn't do anything awful (like break apart). We were off!

The first hole was rough. I'd forgotten how to pitch and I'd forgotten how to putt. The putting came back quickly. After a vile 4-putt on the first I found my rhythm and 1-putted the next four holes. But the pitching and chipping - the heart and soul of my short game -  continued to be troublesome. (I think I'm trying to do with my wrists what I should be doing with my body, but I need some time on the range to get the feel of proper leg work and work out the problem.)

When I found myself in a greenside bunker on the 3rd I had a lapse in confidence. My knee didn't feel ready for sand and I said so. Nobody teased me. Nobody needled me. I felt accepted.

I tended the flag while Mary, Alma, and Bonnie putted out and we all walked off the green together. As we passed the bunker Bonnie stepped in and retrieved my ball. I was moved by her incredible kindness, but not surprised. After all, ours is a game grounded in courtesy. Even in the heat of intense competition - and today could hardly be characterized as intensely competitive - true golfers know our round will be more pleasant it we practice simple good manners.

There were a couple of pars on my scorecard today, and a few bogeys. Not too shabby for my first post-surgery round. There were also a couple of snowmen - not unexpected for that first round. And by the time we'd finished the 7th hole I was simply out of gas.

I tended the flag for the last two holes the first nine, put my clubs back in my car, and went home to ice my knee and take a nap, content in the knowledge that playing golf is, as my friend Becky promised, just like riding a bicycle. Most of the elements came back quickly and I'm completely confident that my short game will be back in form too. I'll give it another try on Thursday - perhaps I can finish nine and execute some respectable chips!

My New Knee - Back to the Game

If I wanted to keep playing golf, I needed a new knee. This is my report on my first 10 weeks after my knee replacement surgery.

It's been 10 long, painful weeks since I submitted to the inevitable and got a new knee. I've been nursing a worn-out knee with no cartilage for years - the result, I suspect, of bad genes, arthritis and two decades of running, running, and running.

I held off as long as possible with those miraculous cortisone shots, at first every four months. Gradually the duration of effect diminished - from 16 weeks to 14 weeks to 12 weeks. When I showed up in my orthopod's office last fall 10 weeks after my last cortisone injection and confessed I was nibbling tramadol in order to play a full 18-hole round, he lifted his eyebrow and delicately suggested it might be time for a "permanent solution" to my knee problem.

I knew what he meant and I didn't like it.

The thought of some surgeon slicing open my leg, peeling back my muscles and tendons, sawing off the ends of my tibia and fibula, drilling holes in them and inserting titanium implants that vaguely resemble a natural knee joint, and a plastic disc that functions as cartilage doesn't leave me feeling warm and fuzzy and optimistic.

Still, my back was against the wall - the cortisone shots weren't going to work much longer and eventually my knee was going to decompensate. I scheduled the surgery.

I talked to other golfers. To a person, they told me they wished they'd gotten their new knees sooner. I took comfort from the fact that Freddie Couples has the same titanium implants. I jogged half an hour per day in the pool for three months before my surgery, conditioning my leg for the trauma.

Nothing, however, prepared me for the emotional devastation I felt during my first week post-op, when I couldn't lift my foot, or even reposition it on it's little pillow. Despite assurances that everything was securely in place, I was initially terrified to put any weight on my leg and maintained a white-knuckle grip on my walker.  But over the subsequent weeks the physical therapists had their way with me.

From small early steps - showering independently, putting on my socks and shoes - I progressed to leg lifts, short walks - first with my walker and then my cane, flexing my leg - 90, 95, 100, 120 and then 130 degrees. Each increase involved pain. Days rolled into weeks. I worked on balance and stability.  I shifted from pain medication to tylenol. I started driving again.

Yesterday, under a sunny blue sky on a shirtsleeves-warm January day I drove to the golf course and pulled my clubs out of the trunk. With a couple of wedges, my 7-iron, a hybrid, and a bucket of balls in hand I walked (without my cane) to the driving range and got back to doing what I love - hitting golf balls.


At first I was awkward. Herky-jerky. But it didn't take long to relax, let muscle memory guide me, and start road testing my new knee.  She performed beautifully - I've named her Justine.

I started with some short chips and pitches, but the lure of the full swing was irresistible! I took a deep breath and relaxed into the process: Such incredible joy from watching my balls fly straight and true, down the range to their targets. I twisted and turned and pivoted without pain or fear.

When my bucket was empty my heart told me I could continue hitting balls forever, but my head knew better. I needed ice and tylenol.

I think I'm still a week or two away from taking Justine onto the golf course. I still need to check out my long irons and the big girls - my driver and my fairway woods - on the range.  But I'm certainly closer to that round than I was 10 weeks ago.

Putting Problems? Try This Drill

 

If you want to lower your score you need to reduce your number of putts. This is how I did it.

Whether you play golf for bragging rights or money - I confess right here that I play for both - you know as well as I do that half your strokes, more or less, are going to be made with your putter. I don't care if you're a scratch golfer, a bogey golfer, or just one of us who prays to break 100. That flat stick should be your best friend.

When I came back to golf after a three-decade, career-building hiatus I faced a lot of relearning. The game had changed in some subtle ways and equipment had changed dramatically. I bought a gently used set of clubs and then launched a search for the perfect putter. Three flat sticks later I accepted that I couldn't buy a good putting game and put myself in the hands of Mr. Billy, a natty octogenarian who taught me how to read greens.

Mr. Billy also gave me a goal: 15 putts per 9 holes. And he convinced me to keep track of my putts, hole-by-hole, the same way I keep my total strokes. It didn't take long for me to buy into Mr. Billy's basic thesis: If I wanted to lower my score fast I could do it by eliminating 3 and (gasp) 4-putts.

By the time I got to Mr. Billy I'd tried several different flat stick design and settled on a fairly basic blade putter. Mr. Billy convinced me that I had a user problem, not an equipment problem!

Once I learned the basics of reading greens and grasped the nuances of different grass grains I was still left with two basic putting problems, direction and distance. I was long. I was short. I grazed the left side of the cup, then the right. I'd gotten to the 2-putt level but the coveted up-and-down 1-putt eluded me. And I needed some 1-putts to achieve Mr. Billy's 15 putts per nine holes target.

I shifted to a new teacher - some times you need a new teacher to learn some new tricks. One of the tricks I've learned from Tommy has become my favorite and regular putting drill. I regularly use this drill as a part of my warm-up routine. It takes about 15 minutes and more often than not I'm able now to reach Mr Billy's 15 putts per nine holes target.

Here's the drill:

Using 3 balls, on the practice green before I tee off for my round, I putt from 10-15 feet. I putt the first ball long, the second ball short, and the third ball to the cup. Holding my finish for three slow beats seems to eliminate my tendency to let my club head wobble and reduces my near misses; and the long-short-center sequence helps me calibrate green speed.

I perform this 3-ball drill five times: up hill, down hill, with a right break, with a left break, and on an essentially flat approach without a break.

Then I'm ready to play golf. I don't think much about my putting during my round. I relax and let muscle memory take over.

Give this drill a try and let me know how it works for you.

What in the World Happened to My Tee Shot?

The wheels came off my round when I made the turn - where, or where, did my dependable tee shot go?

I was really looking forward to my regular Thursday round this morning. I've been doing some work on my short game - tweaking my bump and run shot, changing a couple of short irons in my bag to get better coverage from 70 to 90 yards out - and was eager to test out the changes on the course.

Things started out well enough. I had 5 up and downs on the front nine and despite a triple bogey on the dreaded water hole and a missed birdie putt (depressingly short) I was looking at a fairly good score when I made the turn.

Then the wheels came off. My consistently dependable and predictable tee shot didn't make the turn with me.

On the 10th hole my tee shot went left and I ended up in a fairway bunker. That wasn't terribly worrisome. Sometimes I lose my rhythm when we make the turn and it takes a hole to get it back. So I came out of the bunker with my five wood, made good progress down the fairway, and finished the hole with a bogey, a good score for this girl on the long par four.

Then I did the same thing on the par five 11th hole, only this time I hit the cover off the ball. It was flying off to the left and headed for OB, but hit a tree and bounced back into the fairway. Thank you, golf goddess! Two good three wood shots later I was sitting at the front of the green and again walked off with a bogey. This time a waster opportunity - I can easily shoot par on the 11th hole.

The long par three was trouble-free - my five wood was behaving. But trouble came back in a big way on the 13th. In an attempt to get my driver back under control I choked down about three inches. I still hit left, but now pitifully short, and it sounded like I'd hit a marshmallow.  The trouble continued on the 14th - left, short, and mushy.

By the time I teed it up on the 15th hole I was terrified of my driver, so I left it in the bag and pulled out my three wood. That was a good decision, for a while. I didn't get the distance my driver generally delivers, but I did advance the ball and land it in the fairway, which was an improvement over what had been happening.

Then the troubles shifted to my par three tee shot on the 16th hole, this time with a five hybrid. Left. Never mind that I managed to get the ball out of the rough, up over a bunker, and onto the green with a magnificent flop shot.  What was going on with my tee shot?

I stumbled through 17 an 18 using my three wood off the tee, but it wasn't a pretty finish. The short game changes seemed to work. With 13 putts on the front nine and 16 on the back, I managed to salvage the round but I'm left dreaming about the round I could have had - the golfer's endless quest for that round when it all comes together simultaneously - and wondering what in the world happened to my tee shot on the back nine?

The Olympics and Me

Despite dire predictions and a rough start, golf's return to the Olympic Games has been a glorious success!

I'm a 74-year old jock of mediocre talent. Yet even with these fundamental limitations, I love to compete - on the golf course, in the swimming pool, on a small sailboat, at the bowling alley. It's not in my makeup to play at anything just for the sake of playing. My genes are calibrated to competition.

Watching first the men and then the women who play golf at the highest level of competition make their return to the Olympic venue has sharpened my own competitive impulse and unleashed the flow of my competitive juices. There's no way around it. I love watching Charley Hull and Lydia Ko going head-to-head, battling the wind, the golf course, and each other in their quest for Olympic gold.

But I'm also enjoying Aditi Ashok's excellent performance and I'm applauding Maha Haddoui because, even though she's dead last in the Olympic field and very likely to finish in that position she's unleashing those same competitive juices that so energize me. I know how good it feels to compete. It's a pure, near-spiritual experience. Therein lies the bottom line for athletic performance and the essential core of the Olympic Games, ancient and modern.

Of course competition is about winning, but it's also about engaging, about the willingness to take risks, to measure self against other. What was all that grinning about as Usain Bolt pushed ahead of Andre De Grasse? What are all those hugs and high fives and fist bumps between competitors about when the contest has been decided?

Those naysayers who have denigrated golf's return to the Olympic venue just don't get this aspect of the game. K.M. McFarland just doesn't get it - golf didn't "land in the Olympic rough" as McFarland falsely claims, and it was never about providing an international showcase for Tiger Woods.

Rory McIlroy and Jordan Spieth may have decided to take a pass on Rio but Justin Rose, Henrik Stenson, and Matt Kuchar didn't; and Lydia Ko, Ariya Jutanugarn, and Brooke Henderson are on the golf course and engaged in a fierce battle for Olympic gold as I write. The following galleries for both the men's and women's Olympic golf competition have been large and enthusiastic and national television viewerships have exceeded expectations.

Peter Dawson knew what he was doing when he assured the IOC that the sport embodies and would embrace the Olympic spirit and the IGF has done a fine job of reopening the Olympic venue.  All-in-all, 2 weeks of Olympic golf have inspired, entertained, and taught me a few things.

If Only Life Could Be More Like a Golf Round - A Modest Proposal

Embed from Getty Images

What would life look like if we lived it using the principles that inform our rounds of golf?

I've often thought we could settle most human disputes with a round of golf rather than with guns and bombs - I'll explain how that might work in a later post. I've even considered the viability of substituting a round or two of golf for those political debates that periodically clutter up our television viewing schedules.

But what if our social life could be reshaped to most closely resemble a round of golf? I think we would see a dramatic decline in conflict and violence. The very structure of the game is designed to minimize violence and hostility while preserving the spirit of competition that draws me to the game.

Consider the possibilities -

• In the game of golf we all play by the same set of rules and are subject to exactly the same penalties for violating those rules.
• In the game of golf the playing field varies while the target remains constant, providing balance in competition. This adjustment of the playing field gives older players, younger players, and physically weaker players an equal chance to reach the target in regulation when competing against stronger players.
• In the game of golf our equipment is standardized and uniform. Which 14 clubs we choose to put in our bag is a personal decision but there will be only 14 clubs. 
• In the game of golf cheaters are disqualified from further competition.
• In the game of golf we accept the inevitability of bad shots and play on, trying to do better on the next shot, the next hole, the next round.
• In the game of golf we accept the inevitability of good luck and bad, the fortunate bounce in the right direction, the lip out instead of the drop. We typically applaud the former, groan about the latter, and play on.
• In the game of golf our scores are public knowledge. We keep each other's scores and sign each other's scorecards as well as our own - there are no secrets.
• In the game of golf, when the round is finished we sit down together, settle our wagers, and replay the round - the good moments and the bad ones - while we eat and drink.

If we could devise a strategy to translate these basic principles from the game of golf to the game of life I submit that we could achieve that kinder, gentler, saner world that Meisterbuerger envisions.

It would be super cool if everybody stopped shooting everybody.

— meisterbuerger (@meisterbuerger) July 8, 2016

Perhaps the USGA could launch a Guns-for-Clubs exchange program!

The Salas Effect

Brittany Lang, Brittany Lincicome, Stacy Lewis, Brooke Pancake, Lizette Salas,
& Jennifer Song ready for the Women's Health Classic Pro-Am at Stony Point.

The Self Regional Healthcare Foundation Women's Health Classic is in full swing at The Links at Stoney Point even though the tournament action is still three days away.  The topiaries that will reappear at the Festival of Flowers in about 6 weeks are artfully placed around the clubhouse, the leaderboard is up and waiting to record the action on the course, the spectator seating is where it needs to be, and the months of planning and hard work are behind Jim and Denise Medford.  Show time started at 7:30am Monday morning with the first of three Pro-Am events.

I'm Taking That One Home With Me!

My golf game has been up and down recently.  The grass is growing again and because I'm hitting off almost fluffy green stuff rather than dry, dormant brown stuff I've finally stopped skulling my chips and my trusty flop shot has returned but, of course, there are other issues.  Golf is sort of like marriage -- while I tweak it over here, something else tends to pop out over there and at times I feel trapped in an endless, futile search for the perfect round that doesn't exist.  I probably need some therapy around this issue because my rational self knows golf doesn't work that way and it's just not going to happen.

Golf and Character: My Take on Jordan Spieth

Jordan Spieth's Thank You Note

This thank you note from 15-year old Jordan Spieth rolled across my Facebook page recently.  It says much about the character of its author and also suggest much about the sport he loves.

I've long believed that because of its nature the game of golf provides a lens through which the interior character of individual golfers is revealed.  Even in team events like the Curtis Cup, the Ryder Cup, the Solheim Cup and their various spin-offs, collective success or failure is the cumulative product of individual performance rather than the result of a collaborative effort.

Endings, Beginnings, & A Meditation on the Game of Golf

Alma Barnes, Me & Bonnie Bell (left to right)

Despite the problematic weather I got in my traditional New Year's Eve and New Year's Day rounds again this year.  I typically play these two rounds solo and use my time alone on the golf course for some quiet meditation and reflection -- about the year that's passing, about the year that's promising, about how I'm doing managing my life -- but when I offered last week to make a New Year's Eve tee time for the Star Fort Ladies Golf Association a number of women perked up and said they'd enjoy a round too.

We were all monitoring the long-range forecast and the sun was predicted to make a brief appearance between two winter storms marching across the continent.  Still, after several days of cold rain I wasn't too surprised when I arrived at the golf course to find that our number had dwindled to three: Alma, Bonnie, and me.

Come On! Let's Just Get In A Quick One!

Wes has dropped in for a quick Christmas visit, tucking me in between a stop in Florida and his Virginia holiday blowout.  I had a short list of chores only a son can complete ready for him, and he had a short list of things I needed to help with, including a particularly delicate shopping assignment, but then the sun peeked out.  You know what happened!

It's Cold. It's Raining. It's Saturday. I'm Golfing!

What's with this golf obsession?  The weather outside is frightful . . . and I'm planning on teeing off at my usual Saturday morning time.  What am I thinking?  There are three shopping days remaining until Christmas.  My shopping isn't finished! I can't imagine that any other Star Fort Ladies Golf Association members will be teeing it up on this cold, west Saturday morning.

My list of undone tasks is way too long -- pay bills, change the parrots' papers (a healthy parrot poops every 15 minutes, around the clock and there are five healthy parrots in my life happily pooping in concert), shop for stocking stuffers, get the guest room comforter off the shelf and into a duvet cover and onto the bed.

Why Not Front Page News? Some Thoughts on Ben Martin, Shanshan Feng & Laetitia Beck

Ben Martin's putting clinic at Shriners Hospital fort
Children-Greenville, SC.  Photo credit: Scott Chancey,
Greenwood Index-Journal.

As November has segued into December and 2014 begins its rollover into 2015, we've been bombarded with a wave of devastating and horrifying media images ranging from videotaped beheadings to mass protests difficult to distinguish from the freedom marches of the 1960s to the wholesale destruction of Syria, town-by-town, to the slaughter of a school full of children and their teachers in Pakistan.

The 24-hour news cycle has made it possible to follow, almost shot-by-shot, the search for a crazed cop-killer in Pennsylvania and the attempt to liberate a cafe packed with terrified customers being held hostage in Sydney by a crazed jihadi, or was he?

Have I omitted something?  Probably.  It's been almost too much to absorb.  Am I getting desensitized to mass violence?   Or am I, in the golf season interregnum, just more attuned to the 24-hour news cycle blood and guts filler?

My Time With Mickey Wright & Harvey Penick, A Guest Post by Sam Adams

Sam Adams, Essentially Golf

I met Sam Adams through the Google+ Golf Community (if you love golf and aren't a member of the Community you're missing an opportunity to connect with others who share your passion) and discovered that while we've never met Sam's living and teaching golf within about 30 miles of my home base.  As our conversations unfolded I also discovered that his approach to teaching draws on his friendships Mickey Wright and Harvy Penick, golfers I admire enormously.  

Mickey Wright played on the LPGA Tour from 1955 to 1969, was elected to the World Golf Hall of Fame in 1964, has been named all-time top woman golfer by both Golf Digest and Golf Magazine, and penned Play Golf the Wright Way, a book I return to again and again as I continue to refine my relationship with this pesky, humbling, befuddling game that so engages me.  I was more than a little impressed when Sam shared with me that he's actually played a round or two with her.

My son Wes introduced me to Harvey Penick and his little red books several years ago when he tucked a couple of the volumes into my carry-on bag at the conclusion of one of our golf matches and said, You'll enjoy reading these on your way across the country at 32,000 feet.  Wes was correct.  I've read them all now, but my favorite is For All Who Love The Game: Lessons and Teachings for Women.  Although he's best remembered as Ben Crenshaw's coach (it's said Harvey continued to provide guidance to Crenshaw from his deathbed), like my current swing coach, Tommy Pendley, Harvey Penick had that rare capacity to nurture the golfer who lives inside many women and his writings speak to me and inspire me.  

How could I go wrong with a guest post from a fellow South Carolinian who's learned his trade from these two golf luminaries?  I couldn't.  So here's Sam's guest post on the wisdom and the inspiration he gained from Mickey Wright and her coach, Harvey Penick:

The Bethel Wars: Round 3, Wes By 5

ASU Karsten Golf Club, 8th fairway

The fat lady did not sing for me in our final round of the 2014 Thanksgiving edition of the Bethel Wars.  David Bates had picked the ASU Karsten Golf Course for our third round.  It's a links-style course carved out of the Sonoran Desert and quite frankly I struggled from my first drive to my last putt.

Ted Bishop Take-Aways

How we talk about things is most certainly a lens into how we think about those things.  Yes?  No?  Well, perhaps not always.  Perhaps it only counts if we put those things in writing, yes?  Because if it's not in writing then we could be misquoted, or misunderstood.   Yes?  No?  Does it count if we delete those offensive things, like from our Twitter and Facebook accounts?  Yes?  No?  I'm confused.  When does it count?

Ted Bishop has suggested it doesn't count in his case because both his children are female and they've both made their careers in the golf industry and he's always been "a great advocate for women and girls in golf."

Feminist psycholinguists tell us that when men resort to gender-loaded insults there's more than a hint that those men not entirely comfortable with women as equals, but I'm not confident that the psycholinguists are widely read outside fairly narrow academic circles.

Still, is calling another guy a "L'il Girl" or saying he sounds "like a little school girl squealing at recess" insulting?  And if it's insulting, who's being insulted?  The guy who got called "L'il Girl"?  Little school girls?  All women?  All men?  The cosmos?

Captains Choice With A Twist: But Was It Real Golf?

I'm always open to a new golf adventure and my golf pal, Pat Ellison, has never given me bad advice or suggested an out-of-town tournament that disappointed, so when she forwarded an entry form for Puttin' On The Ritz, a tournament that promised "captains choice with a twist," I knew I needed to take a close look.  After I looked I wrote a check and blocked out the date on my calendar.

With 92 participants, Puttin' On The Ritz might be the biggest golf event I've ever played.  I could feel an electric excitement as I made my way through the breakfast buffet.  I felt like I was in the middle of a flash mob on the practice green.

My team was the first wild card at Puttin' On The Ritz and it was a very fine draw!  As the round unfolded I was equally in awe of Ginger -- my 90-year old teammate who played a steady, consistent game right down the middle of every fairway and who reminded me with every shot she took that I have many, many years of golf ahead of me -- and of Karin -- our A player whom we elected to captain our team while we waited for our turn at the first tee -- who brought the added value of a leadership style that combined technical skill with the ability to bring out the best game all of us carried in our bags to our team effort. We played a round of golf the likes of which I've never before experienced, carded 60 and took runner-up on a scorecard playoff.  I'm on for next year!

Golfing on Labor Day

Used courtesy www.golfdigest.com

Happily, while the swimming pools close after Labor Day, the golf courses will remain open. But there's something about the official End-of-Summer that induces a moment of frenetic madness in American culture.  Golf courses aren't immune.
 

On Champions and Championships

Bonnie Bell,
2014 Star Fort Ladies Golf Association Champion

I had a heavy dose of championship play on Sunday and I got to take a good look at some champions and near-champions as well.  First I played my own Sunday round at the Star Fort Ladies Golf Association annual championship and shared a celebratory meal with the field of contenders, then rushed home to watch what I assumed would be Inbee Park and Suzann Pettersen battle to the finish of the Meijer LPGA Classic.

I'd just settled in and adjusted to the fact that Pettersen had dropped back and there was a rookie in the mix at the Meijer --  Mirim Lee was playing at the top of the board alongside golf's Serene Queen -- when my Facebook chat went wild.

Matt Hooper, St Andrews Golf Magazine editor and Les Bailey, ProGolfNow editor, were yelling at me:

You're missing a classic . . . this is the matchup we've waited for . . . and no Tiger!

Meet Me At The Diner: A Conversation About Golf & Golf Blogging

About eighteen months ago Charlie Bethel -- my younger son who does not play golf but with whom I share a passion for the written word, and who was working on his own writing project while he was visiting me -- suggested that I start writing a golf blog.  Over a pleasant alfresco lunch on my deck we talked about that suggestion.  Quite honestly, I'd never considered blogging.  I'm a writer of books.  But I followed Charlie's suggestion and found an intellectual, literary, and spiritual home in blogging.  It's a dynamic form, offering an almost instantaneous connection with my readers, providing a venue with an embedded feedback loop, a virtual conversation.

I recently had the opportunity to talk with Anne Eller, host of the WCRS award-winning "Meet Me At The Diner," about my personal and public transformation from sociologist to golf blogger.  Anne's an amazing interviewer and extracted from me a coherent narrative of how I became a golf blogger and my assessment of blogging as a form of communication.

You are crucial partners in this ongoing conversation that I enjoy so very much.