It didn’t seem that long ago I was writing a story about Pat Bradley’s chances of winning the women’s version of the Grand Slam.
We were in Kettering, just outside of Dayton, in southern Ohio at the NCR CLub, site of the 1986 US Women’s Open.
This was Bradley’s best season. She had won the Dinah Shore and the LPGA Championships. She would win the third major, the du Maurier, in Canada, two weeks later.
I remember back in the 1980s when bankers and golf ignited a series of unexpected bank failures and golf course closings that cost some good friends their fortunes.
It seems as if it is happening again.
Looking at the auction page of the newspaper, I see the Ridge Club down on Cape Cod is on the auction block.
And Mount Washington, with its Donald Ross course, is also up for auction.
Then there are stories about financial difficulties of a very high-end ultra exclusive private club on the South Shore. You wonder if it is all happened all over again.
True story: My brother- and sister-in-law just took up golf together. They bought clubs. Took lessons. And are playing together as a twosome on an executive golf course.
They like the game.
Last week, their second time out ever, it is in the 90s.
Sister-in-law, menopausal, is dying of the heat.
Brother-in-law, former Marine officer, insists they walk. They need the exercise.
She and the temperatures simmer.
By Paul Harber
I will not forget my first round at Widow’s Walk Golf Course in Scituate.
It was Opening Day and it was something special. I got paired with a flaming liberal who was mad at me for the entire 18 holes.
First, he was furious because it didn’t bother me that Bill Parcells called often-injured wide receiver Terry Glenn, “she.”
by Paul Harber
When you think of Brockton, you think of trouble.
I lived there for a quarter century and there are sections you simply avoid.
Drugs, murder, prostitution, it’s a shame.
However, there are some nice areas in what was once a thriving shoe manufacturing city that are overlooked.
And one of them is D.W. Field Golf Course.
This week South Shore Country Club pro, Joe Keefe, talks to us about getting out of the bunker when you have a bad lie.
The way I played golf this summer, I’m about ready to quit.
Yeah, yeah, everybody says they are going to quit at some point.
And some do.
In fact, the National Golf Foundation says more than a million golfers give up the game every year.
The NGF doesn’t say why. But since it is a game loaded with old people (include me, look at my photo above, I look like I belong in a coffin), I think many quit to play in the Big Course in the Sky.
Others quit because they physically can’t play anymore.
And a good number quit because they are newbies. They go out a couple of times and are overwhelmed and humiliated.
These folks have the good sense to find something else to do.
I always thought I would be able to play golf until the day I died.
I had dreams of retiring to some sunny clime, playing a championship golf course every morning, fishing every afternoon and watching the Red Sox every night. It would be a perfect world.
But now that I’m in my 60s, I realize I have the body of an 80-year-old.
These days after a round of golf, I’m ready for a nap.