Tuesday we hit a record high of 84 F in Boston, and, out on the fairway, (which I managed to land on with some frequency, thank you very much) it was blistering hot, full on summer day. Jack the starter paired me with a very nice young man and sent us out, sandwiched between a four some of Harvard men, and the Belmont Hills golf team.
For its students, Harvard provides golf, gratis, on our little hidden gem of an urban golf course. Every year the university buys a allotment of vouchers, and each spring a small flock of students play our course.
The John Harvards in front of us were in their mid 20s, were taking time out of their studies at law or business school to enjoy each others company and a round of the royal and ancient game. Beer was the beverage of choice. Each putt was thoroughly scrutinized. Pace of play slowed to a crawl.
Fortunately, the nice young man I was playing with was quite charming. On the 3rd tee we discussed barbecuing techniques. By the sixth hole we were comfortable enough to discuss politics. Two hours in, and with three holes left to play, we parted – he had guests coming for dinner. The Johns had just hit onto the green – or attempted to (8 is a par 3; the green is protected by a water hazard). The wait did not appeal so I pocketed my ball and walked to the club house. On the way in, I stopped to admire the turtles on log in the water on the 9th.