Recently, the Walker High School reunion committee sponsored an alumni golf outing at Mystery Valley Golf Club in Lithonia. The weather was perfect and it was a great time, a wonderful gathering of old friends. I saw a quote recently stating that, “the best way to feel young is to be around people you were young with.” And that is… Read moreWHS Golf Reunion | Old Friends And Great Times
I got a set of golf clubs when I was fifteen. They were Spalding Par Plays from Woolworth’s at South DeKalb Mall. I played a couple of times at Clifton Springs, stuck them in my closet and didn’t pick them up again for twelve years. Mary Jane’s dad played golf and often talked about the game. That kind of piqued… Read moreIdlewood
I started playing golf in 1983 after watching the movie “Caddyshack”. It remains my favorite movie of all time, but that’s blog fodder for another day. A lot has happened between then and now. I have played golf in Scotland. I have been on the grounds of Augusta National during The Masters. I have walked the Old Course at St…. Read moreBreaking Eighty | The Elusive Number
I am officially old. I have moved to the forward tees. I mean the way forward ones, the geezer tees. Now, before you starts snickering, chortling and demanding my man card, hear me out. I am not ashamed at all that I have moved up in the tee box. As a matter of fact, I find it very liberating. Golf… Read moreThe Geezer Tees | Moving On Up
My buddy turned his Sea Ray into the cove and roared down the shore with the golf course on the left and me behind on a pair of Cypress Gardens water skis. He laid the boat on its side and made the tight turn around the cove. I shot outside the wake, moving like a missile and yelling, “Fore, Arnie,… Read morePineIsle | A Squirrel for a Buck
Today is, as far as this Georgia boy is concerned, a National Holiday. Today is Masters Sunday. The Masters is steeped in tradition. A Tradition Unlike Any Other, as Augusta National’s privileged membership likes to say. For years, the tradition in my family was to gather at our house on Masters Sunday for dinner, which included pimento cheese and chicken… Read moreA Tradition Unlike Any Other
Thomas Brooks stood on the first tee of Lake Southerness Golf club on a beautiful early spring afternoon. It was a Thursday in mid-March. He was preparing to tee off and walk nine holes. “Excuse me, sir, but are you by yourself? Want to play together?” came a voice from behind him. It was from a man who had just… Read moreOutdriven
