I emigrated to Canada way back in the early 70's, with only one suitcase and hand luggage. I taught ESL and Math to Native Canadians in NW Ontario for 4 years.
During that entire time I had no golf club to swing, feel or whet my thirst for a game that I was weaned on. Rather, I had what perhaps the15th century shepherds had - a bent stick, a pebble, and a beach, the very basics of the game we all love. I wasn't very good with the bent stick and pebble , however it did give me some insight on how a murderer might feel towards a victim in a crime of passion.
Why this game of golf survived beyond the 16th century continies to amaze me, despite Callaway and Taylor Made 's assurances that I can hit that damn pebble further and straigher if I only keep buying their prodiuct every 6 months.