This being the season of thanksgiving, here are a few things for which I’m thankful:
That nearly perfect July afternoon at North Berwick when the sun was shining, the wind was down and the putts were falling. It was a day and a place that made us stop once in a while to look around, not at where our shots landed but at the place with its ancient stone walls and gray buildings that frame the finish. The game at its best. Rickie Fowler. He’s made being a star look easy. Others could learn from him. The 10th at Riviera. The third at Augusta. The 14th at Muirield Village. Short par-4s where the difference between birdie and bogey is often the space between your ears. Quick greens. Salt air. The thump of a good bunker shot. Knowing you’ve made the putt when the ball is still two feet out. Spanish moss. New grips. White golf shirts. Going for it. Pulling it off. Phil Mickelson remembering the anniversary of a writer’s victory over cancer and taking him to dinner each year to celebrate. Golf shirts that don’t show sweat stains. The voices – David Feherty, Frank Nobilo and Johnny Miller among them – who tell us about more than what we’re watching. My round of golf with Greg Norman and Donald Trump. Norman is someone you’d like to spend a few days with, and having the chance to sit around a table with Trump for an hour, drinking a couple of beers and listening to him talk about golf, business and himself was worth getting rained out of the back nine.