On St. Patrick’s Day, there’s no better place to find green than on a golf course.
Green Oaks — my home course — was open for the second day this season and I could not pass on the opportunity in spite of 40 mile-per-hour winds. I had missed the opening the day before to take my wife to dinner on our twenty-fifth anniversary.
It was one of those days when — depending on the direction of the wind — I either felt like a Tour Pro or the worst amateur to ever hack up a course. I hit drives of 300 yards and drives that barely made it past the ladies tee. In a side wind, I aimed forty yards to the left and missed ten yards right.
It was so windy that pine cones were drifting across the fairways like tumbleweeds in a western.
Thursday is my night for weights at the gym, so I only had time to play nine. It was great, however, to be out again.
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