I’ve watched him play in a surgical symphony of shots that raised eyebrows and caused that boyish smile and cackling laugh. He seemed surprised, and yet it is what he expects from himself—of the stuff where expectation and effort are expected to meet success, where failure boils and then comes to rest on lowered shoulders. You can’t help but feel for his dissatisfaction on any particular day should it point south, though you know and you’ll witness the phoenix in his play soon enough. The incredulous expressions he offers in both success and failure don’t surprise me. There are those who possess a passion that propels an effort connected to a personal cost: golf is not a game, but a challenge. It matters little that the foe is a reflection, it is the challenge that offers the breed more than satisfaction; only in accomplishment is a beer truly deserved and peace preserved … you gotta love that.
You go, Sam!
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