When I was young, my father used to take my brother and I golfing with him. He'd hand us a club and a ball and we'd whack our way around the course. When we were older we lived near a golf course where we'd play now and then. I remember playing in only one tournament and the only shot I remember from it was the one in which the golf club flew out of my hand and went further than the ball. After Jean and I were married we bought each other a set of clubs for our birthdays. Since then we've been semi-sort-of-committed-part-time-golfers. I've got a new set of clubs now which I've accumulated from a variety of used sporting gear stores. None of them match which seems appropriate for the kind of game I play. At least, I tell myself, the worse you are the more exercise you get. Humility and fresh air are two gifts of golf that I'll always enjoy.
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