I am not grieving the end of the golf season. I’m done and I’m good with it. I’ve accepted that I won’t be hitting the little white ball off green grass for another five months, except in the unlikely event that I go south this winter. Over the past half-dozen years or so, I’ve followed a season-ending ritual that allows me to segue into winter unbridled with sorrow and longing. If you are “normal” person, you may not grasp the pathos of … [Read more...]