I grew up behind the #2 Tee of the local country club.
You can assume whatever you want from that statement. Some of it may be true, a lot of it probably not, but it’s all one big puddle of moot.
We had lattice and railing around our back porch, and when I was still shorter than the rails, I would spend hours watching the golfers through the holes in the wood. Most of them never knew I was there until my shrill, loud voice started to heckle them—“You dog-legged it!” or “Oh no! The woods! Ya hit it in the woods!”
When you grow up an only child, you find your fun where you can.
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