So its 4:45 a.m., and I'm drinking coffee to get fully awake. The van is gassed and loaded, and in an hour, I'll be picking up two buddies for a yearly golf trip.
I've worked with these guys for almost 25 years, and they are as good a friends as any man ever had. There was a fourth to the group, but he died of cancer about 8 yrs. ago, and we still think about it all the time, especially right now.
The trip is to a Georgia high school coaches' convention at Jekyll Island, and we'll play on all three of the 18 hole courses there, one by Joe Lee, one by Dick Wilson, and a brilliant renovation by Clyde Johnston of another Dick Wilson course. (There's a nine-holer on the island that dates back to the Rockefellers and Goodyears, et. al., when Jekyll was their private playground, and it is a truly funky little thing.)
On the way down we always play somewhere, and this year its Cuscowilla at 9:40 this morning, and I'm stoked! On the way back on Sunday, we'll play at the Savannah Westin, a well-regarded Bob Cupp design that I'm anxious to see.
The golf is great, but the trip is the thing. We organize our year around it, at least mentally, and have been for over a decade. By now, we can tell stories of past trips for the entire drive down, and we spend the weekend with old friends, opponents, and colleagues that we rarely or never get to see anywhere else. It is a beautiful thing in all of our lives, and it is part of what makes golf so special.
I hope you have similar friends in your life, and a similar trip with them in your year. If you do, take a moment and tell the treehouse about it.
Thanks for listening.