It's really November 19, 2009, it really is Livonia, Michigan, and it really is dawn. It's raining slightly and it's in the high 40s with a little bit of a raw wind blowing. Not very exciting, but also not very uncommon for this area and this time of year. I just got done backing into a dock at a nondescript warehouse near the Jeffries and Levan. So, while we are waiting to be unloaded, as a bit of a short mental vacation, I'm letting my mind wander back roughly 21 and a half years, when the weather was nicer and the reason for enjoying daybreak was much more significant....
5:54am - 6.19.88 - Idyl Wyld Golf Course - Livonia, Michigan
Because it's close to the Summer solstice, the sun is actually trying hard to peak above the trees. There are three cars in the parking lot, and three would be golfers in various stages of final preparation for a round of golf - trunks open, half full coffee cups sitting on the car roofs and the familiar sound of a bag of clubs being hoisted out of the trunk and stood upright on the blacktop.
When the spikes are finally all tied, the three head down the slight incline and along the fence behind the ninth green, turn left and walk the remaining 25 yards to the first tee. Each has his own little ritual involving swinging a club or two and stretching a hamstring or a lower back and listening for the familiar creaks and pop of the joints. They are thirtysomethings but 6am is still pretty early for the mind to be fully in control of the body. As they go through their motions, a fourth car pulls up in the parking lot.
By now there is enough light to begin to see most things clearly. The first hole is not a long par four. It's straight and the fairway is not wide but certainly fair. Mature trees line the entire left side and a scattering of various sized pine trees sit to the right between the short grass and the out-of-bounds fence. Beyond the fence lies Five Mile Road and the rest of the world. In front of the tee is a small river, or wide creek, that really should never come into play (but once or twice a year it does anyway).
By the time the fourth golfer reaches the tee, sputtering excuses for being late, the other three have launched their first shot of the day - one right, one left and one that may or may not have hung onto the fairway on the right hand side. Without wasting any time, and continuing with the excuses, the fourth golfer tees up his ball and sends a high left-to-right fade that finds the fairway. All four pick up their bags, walk on across the bridge, and leave the real world behind. Twenty five years earlier they carried their bags because they couldn't afford not to; now they carry their bags because it is good for them.
The fairway is still damp and the dew and grass clippings stick to the golfers' shoes. They each ultimately find their respective golf ball, and anywhere from two to four shots later they are all on the green wondering how much the dew will affect the speed and line of the putts. In turn they all two-putt, which is a bit unusual, but hey, it does happen every now and then. There are now four sets of footprints in the dew on the green, and you can see in lines left behind by each roll the exact two-part route each ball took in getting to the hole.
It's now almost 6:15 and the sun has officially made its appearance. Already the day feels a few degrees warmer, and the sun is beginning to burn off the morning moisture. In a few hours it will be 85 degrees and sunny, but for now the attention turns to the second tee, and not much else really matters.
When the spikes are finally all tied, the three head down the slight incline and along the fence behind the ninth green, turn left and walk the remaining 25 yards to the first tee. Each has his own little ritual involving swinging a club or two and stretching a hamstring or a lower back and listening for the familiar creaks and pop of the joints. They are thirtysomethings but 6am is still pretty early for the mind to be fully in control of the body. As they go through their motions, a fourth car pulls up in the parking lot.
By now there is enough light to begin to see most things clearly. The first hole is not a long par four. It's straight and the fairway is not wide but certainly fair. Mature trees line the entire left side and a scattering of various sized pine trees sit to the right between the short grass and the out-of-bounds fence. Beyond the fence lies Five Mile Road and the rest of the world. In front of the tee is a small river, or wide creek, that really should never come into play (but once or twice a year it does anyway).
By the time the fourth golfer reaches the tee, sputtering excuses for being late, the other three have launched their first shot of the day - one right, one left and one that may or may not have hung onto the fairway on the right hand side. Without wasting any time, and continuing with the excuses, the fourth golfer tees up his ball and sends a high left-to-right fade that finds the fairway. All four pick up their bags, walk on across the bridge, and leave the real world behind. Twenty five years earlier they carried their bags because they couldn't afford not to; now they carry their bags because it is good for them.
The fairway is still damp and the dew and grass clippings stick to the golfers' shoes. They each ultimately find their respective golf ball, and anywhere from two to four shots later they are all on the green wondering how much the dew will affect the speed and line of the putts. In turn they all two-putt, which is a bit unusual, but hey, it does happen every now and then. There are now four sets of footprints in the dew on the green, and you can see in lines left behind by each roll the exact two-part route each ball took in getting to the hole.
It's now almost 6:15 and the sun has officially made its appearance. Already the day feels a few degrees warmer, and the sun is beginning to burn off the morning moisture. In a few hours it will be 85 degrees and sunny, but for now the attention turns to the second tee, and not much else really matters.
