As I married and had a family, my golf days were mostly taken while on vacations with friends. Probably less than 10 times a year did I play, but I did well enough to have some fun with the game. When you know you can't compete on a very high level, just getting out on the course is something to look forward to.
In the late 80s, I joined a new club not far from our home out in the country, east of Chattanooga. A friend of mine, Earl Marler, had purchased a house in the development around the course, and he asked me to play on Saturdays. He also gathered two other men, who lived on that course, and for several years, we were the first group on the first tee every Saturday. No matter the weather, except pouring rain, we played. Some mornings we would have to wait for the greens to lose their frosty covering, but we got the round in. And we walked all 18 holes each time. No wimpy carts for us. No sir!
Sure we competed on a friendly basis, and we each played to win, but I realized that was not the reason I got up and went out on those cold mornings. It was the camaraderie among the four of us that was the draw. It was a thing to be looked forward to each week.
Earl Marler, Walt Klepper and Victor Kalafa were the three that I joined with. All of us played at about the same level, with some good shots, several bad ones, and, every once in a while, a great one or two. But it was our time, and we had fun together.
In 1995 we moved to St. Simons, and a whole new set of people to be around. I played more golf than ever before. We lived on a course, and I jokingly told everyone who asked, that I only played golf on days that ended in a Y, and that was a true statement. I could walk out my back door, walk 9 holes and come back in the house in about an hour and fifteen minutes. Mostly I played by myself, but occasionally with a friend or two.
After we moved to Virginia for three years and then returned to our Island, I began playing every Friday morning with three guys from church. Again, we played early each Friday trying to be one of the first groups out on the course, and, also again, we played in all types of weather, everything but thunderstorms.
Jim and Patrick were still working, and Fritz and I were retired. Still, we all looked forward to Fridays. It was a special time, and I think we knew it.
Maybe a couple of times a year, we would play in some charity tournament.
Sometimes if the field was no too large, we won something. We may not have been the best looking group, but we smiled a lot and just looked forward to a golf challenge together. The winners of this particular flight received a golf flag from the Ryder Cup, signed by Davis Love III, framed and everything. Winning a prize was good, but playing together was better.
As I think back on these times, it was not hard to put the golf experience into perspective. Some days we hit the ball well and scored OK, some days not so much.
But looking forward to a day each week, with three other guys that you enjoyed being with, made all the difference.
And one time, way back in 1992 I even won a portion of a club championship. Don't tell anyone that, since it was a relatively new club without a ton of members, the competition was limited, and maybe that should be a story for another day. The clock is on my wall.
Thanks Earl, Walt and Victor, and also Jim, Fritz and Patrick. And Rudy, Carroll and Jim when we were in Ooltewah, and Bruce and John while we were in Blacksburg.
You guys made an early morning round of golf memorable and worth looking forward to each week.
And each of you were put by God into my life at a time you were needed.
Relationships, even ones formed by play, are much more important than any game.
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