A round at Pebble? New clubs? Spyglass too? Pinch me. You realize your teasing me with heaven? alright. I’ll give this a shot. (Deep breath). I find myself standing outside golf’s pearly gates, begging entrance. Who is hearing my plea but none other than golf’s equivilent of St. Peter, Golf Magazine. time is short and I need paradise so hear me out sir.
“St. Peter…I am an unworthy man, I realize this. But you know how passionate I am for this game sir. You know how often I stand, late at night in my boxers, with the family fast asleep, swinging my wedge and banging the ceiling fans. You also know how I will run to my car on a Sunday evening and listen to Feherty and McCord on the radio for my long drive home from work. golf on the radio! I have had the lessons on the driving range of the local club but I need better classes to get my game over this hump. Sir, you know I am golf’s everyman. Golf’s blue collar. Coalminer’s daughter with a 7 iron. You know I don’t carry a 10 handicap or play 2 rounds a week. You know I’ll probably never get on those heavenly courses outside of my daughter marrying into Clint Eastwood’s family. All this you know, yet you also know how I love this game sir! Give me a shot. I’ve seen enough of this earth, let me roam the windswept cliffs of heaven.
