Fridays are for winners

Notes From the Weekend: Charleston Golf, Bourbon, and Football

The headache is still hanging around from last night, but Charleston mornings forgive almost anything. Strong coffee, light through the live oaks, and I remember why weekends matter here.

I have a tee time with the boys. Golf is not about the number for me. It is the walk, the talk, the pause over a shot with the river breeze in my face. The round slows the world down just enough to make sense of the week.

Lowcountry golf fairway with live oaks

By afternoon the pace changes. It is football time. My Dutch girlfriend still asks why one day can hold so much weight. I see her lean in when the game gets tight. She feels it even if she will not say it out loud.

By kickoff the glove is in the trunk and the glass is in my hand. Charleston has a rhythm and I try to match it. Golf in the morning. Football in the afternoon. Stories at night. No matter the score I will be back next weekend ready to do it again.

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