Sometimes I am surprisingly reminded why I like golf so much. Sometimes the score really doesn’t matter in spite of how much I want to play well. Today was one of those days. I rendezvoused with two golf buddies at the picturesque Druid’s Glen course and was greeted with a dramatic cloud-shrouded Mt. Rainier at sunrise. These are the kinds of vistas that make Pacific Northwest golf special.
Oh yes, my score. I was doing OK until my tee shot at number nine, denying all laws of physics, inexplicably rolled across the entire width of the fairway and trickled into the hazard. Frustration got the best of me and I ballooned to a 102, one of my worst scores ever.