Pushing 40 (years, not mph)

My blogging buddy, Kiel Christianson, hit a nerve when he mentioned an aging Greg Norman and the ultimate year of crossing over. With that as a pithy introduction, here is my list of what I remember (and sometimes miss) most about golf during my first 39 years, 9 months, and 5 days:

–the clickety-clack of metal spikes along the cart path;
–the thwack of a persimmon or laminated clubhead against the golf ball;
–the shattering feeling of a rock-flight hit thin on a late fall afternoon;
–staring through the hedges of Oak Hill on an August afternoon in 1980 at the Golden Bear extends his comeback;
–eavesdropping on the collection of clubs in the oldest member’s trunk as he accidentally leaves it open for me to peruse;
–watching Tom Watson capture the World Series of Golf for his unbelieveable (at the time) fifth win of the season;
–Glimpsing a young Greg Norman bail on an approach at Augusta, the last remaining threat to Nicklaus’ sixth Masters triumph;
–the scent of a new, cabretta leather, Foot-Joy glove, the first time I could afford one;
–the tidal wave of golf-dom at my first (and only) PGA show in Orlando;
–the knowledge that, once upon a yonder year, the US Open was played at the course up the street (Grover Cleveland, nee Country Club of Buffalo, 1912–look it up!);
–all the shots at Webhannet, Putterham Meadows, Pinehurst #2, Tanglewood, Old Town, Bermuda Run, Taconic, Middlebury, Hanover, Golf Club of Dublin, Ravenwood, Turning Stone, Fox Hopyard, Hollywood Golf Club, and the hundreds of other tracks that I have had the great fortune to walk;
–the inimitable styles of Michael Murphy, Darren Kilfara, Herbert Warren Wind, Charles Price, Peter Dobereiner, Dan Jenkins, Steven Pressfield, Roberta Isleib, and the tens of other great golf writers who have explained the history, lore, and emotion of the game to me;
–the twilight putt that snaked in from fifteen feet, allowing our team to win the division championship my junior year in high school;
–An anonymous future pro hitting golf balls off the DKE house at Wake Forest, jumping into his car, and taking off before the brothers found us out;
–the debut of The First Tee of Niagara Falls, providing opportunity and exposure to kids who might never find golf;
–and the list (hopefully) goes on. My lovely wife surprised me with an August trip to some place in southwest Oregon to commemorate the impending birthday, so hopefully we (the game and I) will make some more memories there.