It’s getting to be that time of year in Michigan—where every round could be your last of the year. There was a snowstorm last week, and although that was a record for early snow, it’s a harbinger of things to come.
So today, I stopped off on the way home and got in a quick nine. I figured I had to steal from Mother Nature when she wasn’t looking.
It was cool—in the mid 50s—but I was comfortable in my flannel lined khakis, turtleneck and windshirt. I also wore a pair of winter golf gloves—a real concession for me, since I rarely play with gloves in the summer. But I have low blood pressure, and my fingers and toes tend to get cold.
Rain had been predicted for the afternoon, so I was practically the only person there. The rain didn’t show, however,and I was able to finish my nine. I played well, shooting a 45 that would have been better had not the greens been recently aerated.
I really like playing golf this time of year. There’s no chance of getting sweaty, the courses are uncrowded and the autumn trees in Michigan are spectacular. The cooler weather does mean that I don’t hit the ball quite as far, and that mishits can sting cold hands, but I solve that by playing with a softer ball, like a Nike Super Soft.
Still, there’s a bittersweet quality to it all. Summer is over and there are a couple of nasty months ahead. And with each shot, I wonder: was that my last good drive of the year, or was that my last good iron, chip or putt?
I hope they weren’t, though. I’d lke to steal another afternoon from Mother Nature later this week.