I took my eight-iron and four golf balls to the Prouts Neck course this morning with Teddy and hit them around until I lost them in the snowbanks. I was standing on the 14th green when I called Glen up in Canada. I told him that this green always reminded Jack and me of the 11th on the Old Course with its steep back-to-front slope, and the two deep front bunkers, right and left, guarding the approach, and the tidal channel behind the back rushing past like the Eden Estuary.
The sun was breaking through the low gray clouds while Glen and I talked about fathers and sons. Two years ago I got Glen his caddie job at the Castle Course so he could try to walk off the death of his father. He had fallen in love with Scotland and was heading back over in late April for his third season. I told him that I felt like taking a long walk myself. “How long?” he asked. “Maybe another thousand miles,” I said.