We understood that golf was played on the golf course. And that was okay with us. But what we were up to seemed much more fun. To us, a golf course was a playground and a battleground and uncharted territory. It was a landscape of hills, trees, sandy parts, and long fields that peninsula’d into the pockets of our neighborhood in Dallas’s North Oak Cliff. Hiding spots were plentiful. And most important, it had a creek. And if you’ve ever been twelve, you don’t need me to tell you about creeks. Spring and fall were nice seasons on the course, sure. We’d take someone’s dad’s clubs, scavenge for balls that other players had lost in the brush, and take a few strokes right in the middle…
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