I can't remember the first time I ever played golf nor where I was when I did it but I do remember that when I watched it on TV or saw people on the course, I just associated the game with stuffy, rich aristocrats on a country club course. Growing up I knew that I'd never be in their league and to take part in such a sport that required argyle socks was not going to be something I'd be a part of. Slowly, however, it started to interest me and I would go with friends occasionally to try my hand at this high-class recreation. After playing for a little while, the bug started to nibble at me and I became hooked. The rules and regulations of the game have been emblazoned in my mind over the years and as a new golfer I always wanted to play it with dignity, with the exception of the forbidden foot wedge placed precariously in my bag.
As I think about the experiences on the course, I look more toward the friendships I strengthened as well as the unique places I've been when I measure my success. Nobody will ever talk about my rise to stardom on the PGA tour given my high double-digit handicap, nor will I have to turn the sponsors away at my door. However, when I think about standing next to the statue of Payne Stewart just off the 18th tee at Pinehurst #2, walking in 100+ degree heat at the aptly named Long Hollow, or breaking 100 for the first time and earning my GolfTec yellow hat, I remember the people I was with and the relationships I forged.
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