For the first time in my life, I feel old. My golf clubs were stolen early last week and on Saturday I went out for some golf with my kids. They haven't beaten me yet, but it's getting to the point where I have to pay attention because that dreadful day is not so far away.
I had to put a set together from the garage and the pickings were slim. Even though I get more free golf stuff than any human is entitled to, I could only get a few clubs together. I have this habit of giving old stuff to my buddies when new stuff comes in. This may be the only reason I have so many friends.
On the first tee, my youngest kid pulled the head cover off my driver and immediately his eyes lit up in astonishment. 'What in the world is this?' he said as he held my Palmer Peerless Persimmon driver out in front of his body like it was a sample of Ebola virus.
Way too tired and broken down to explain that he was holding the wooden driver I used to finish 15th in driving distance on the PGA Tour in 1995, I just said 'It's an old family heirloom, now hurry up so we can get to the cafeteria before 5.'