While my esteemed colleague Tim McDonald treks/stumbles through South Africa, trying to avoid running into any of those dastardly Brits who might say something that offends his tender sensibilites, perhaps perusing possible retirement homes between lion dodgings, I’m making a golf journey through Arizona. It’s not South Africa. But sometimes the paradise you know is as sweet as the exotic locale you don’t.
Especially when the rest of the country is in deep, deep freeze. Including those fools in Tampa who thought they left winter behind by following the birds South and instead have now found themselves literally freezing while the lovely West Coast desert flirts with near record January temperatures. Nothing but high 70 degrees in Phoenix and Scottsdale.
Hearing about the winter storm set to pound the East Coast, I pity all the devoted golfers soon to buried in white stuff. As for those stuck in the Midwest (my childhood through college home), I just question your sanity. Anyone past the enlightened age of 30 willingly putting themselves through those temperatures five months a year makes about as much sense as Jessica Simpson.
The mere thought’s almost enough to shatter sweet Arizona swing thoughts. Almost.
The courses here are less crowded than I expected, practically wide open for great play during the week. Even high season here provides plenty of opportunity to swing and breathe. Stories on all this will be upcoming, including some of the best hidden values in Arizona golf. Might be a course you never thought of. Might of an entire town you never considered.
What? You’d rather read about the old man and the lion?
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