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Dear DLB Members
Martha sent this to me few weeks ago through email,
I thought it was charming. I hope you will take a few
minutes and read it.
It's the way the first tee feels,
alive with possibility.
It's that feeling, out of nowhere,
that comes as you're lining up a putt, letting you know
that all you have to do is get the ball rolling and
the hole will get in the way.
It's the thump of a well-played
bunker shot.
It's nine holes late in the day, when the
sun is sinking and the shadows are stretching, showing
every bump and roll in a golden light that makes you
stop and look around.
It's calling your shot and pulling
it off.
It's the ladies who look like they can't play
a lick then spend their days around par, not needing
swing coaches, just having a knack for getting the ball
in the hole.
It's calling your own penalties. It's a
kid with his bag slung over his shoulder, cap pulled
low, hoofing it down a fairway.
It's nipping a wedge
just right, having it bounce once and cozy up to the
hole.
It's a bowl of peanuts and a cold beer at the
end of the day, when stories can be embellished, if
only a little.
It's the warm feel of a turtleneck in
December, the first greening of the grass in March,
the thrill of hitting it a club longer in July and greens
as fast as the kitchen floor in October.
It's Harbour
Town in April, Quail Hollow in May and Pinehurst any
time.
It's having the sun behind you and catching a
tee shot square, having a moment to admire it as it's
framed against the sky.
It's the small but sudden thrill
of finding a new Titleist.
It's the clutch in your throat
the first time you see St. Andrews and the never-ending
thrill of Amen Corner.
It's the belief that the magic
you've found in a new driver will last forever.
It's
the scent of salt air, the faint taste of pine pollen
on your lips and the glimpse of a gator in a low country
lagoon.
It's standing over a 5-footer that doesn't matter
to anyone but you and being thankful for the feeling.
It's the little places with pickups in the parking lot,
ragged grass, bumpy greens, worn-out golf carts, yellow
range balls and a spirit all their own.
It's the way
you practice your swing in the elevator, the way you
put an overlapping grip on the rake and the way you
see golf holes where others just see fields along the
highway.
It's the way tournament golf feels, even if
it's just a little club event.
It's the feel of new
grips and the shine of new irons.
It's the gentle creak
of aging muscles in the evening, a good tired. It's
a birdie at the 18th to win the press.
It's having people
who understand what's important.
It's going for a par-5
in two, trying to cut a corner and that instant when
you wonder if the shot is as good as it looks.
It's
golf.
And it's why we play the game. And a great game
it is!
Hope to see you at the meeting on Friday. We
will be voting on the Bylaw revisions, reviewing the
Standing Rules and discussing becoming a Non Profit
Organization. |
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