I played my first round of golf in highschool. A few buddies were on the golf team and caddied at the local clubs. Monday they got to play for free in the afternoon, and they managed to drag me along. To be honest, I didn’t love it. I had a nasty slice off the first tee and couldn't hit it straight to save my life, or anyone’s windshield. It was safe to say I wasn’t going to join the team, or play ever again for that matter. Boy was I wrong.
Fast forward 10 years. I was in an embarrassing car accident, and wasn't able to walk, let alone run for a few months. My usual activities of basketball and running were no longer viable options, so I sat on the couch, put on a few stone, and got really good at watching it on telly. I moved in with my girlfriend, we bought our first house, and I had the harsh realization that my first choice of career was coming to an end. I wasn’t entirely sure what I was going to do next, but then life happened. A friend of mine moved across the country to start his next gig working in television. Did I mention at the time we were living in Los Angeles? Well we were, he packed enough clothes for a week, a 50 inch flat screen, and a set of golf clubs. He helped me get my first job, and helped me pick out my first set of clubs, a Wilson starter set.
Now if you don’t know Los Angeles well, it’s not the end of the world. All you need to know is that it has muny courses for days. Massive, beautiful, and cheap municipal courses. I cut my teeth on these courses. I shot a 125, and an 86 on the same course in 2 years. I played 36 holes on Wilson and Harding, played another 9 on Roosevelt, and then practiced my short game at the Los Feliz Par 3, all in one day, all in Griffith Park (you know where the Hollywood sign is). Seventy and sunny was the forecast everyday, Monday night was 2 for 1 at the driving range, and you occasionally had a celebrity sighting. One day I’m going to have to get back to my golf roots, and get back to Los Angeles, where golf started for me.