The final day of the Where’s William Now adventure began with an air of sadness. This portion of my trip was coming to an end, which meant I would soon be forced to consider real life. My mental challenge at the start was to immerse myself in the experience and become someone different. My tendency has always been to overthink, lean towards a worse-case scenario, and make contingency plans based on those bad outcomes. To use a golf analogy, it would be like facing a shot over water on the 8th and thinking about how to make a birdie on the 15th. Thankfully, I don’t do that in golf because that would be f’ing crazy. But I must be f’ing crazy because that’s my instinctive thought process in life. The last six weeks have taught me that thriving in the present moment is the most rewarding way to live.
But the future beckons because I’m not a billionaire. That means I need employment. I have options and opportunities, but with that comes the pressure to decide what’s next and what’s best. To add a variable, my Mom recently turned 85 and she is not leaving the Monterey Peninsula. Traveling with her to my oldest son’s wedding this month will be a good litmus test on her independence. The data points I collect will certainly influence my next move.
After a delicious to-go wrap at Tim Horton’s, Charles and Sera dropped me off at Toronto Golf Club and a clubhouse area that resembled an Ivy League campus. TGC is the 3rd oldest course in North America at 150 years. And the only two that are older are Royal Montreal and Royal Quebec–both located in Canada. When that trivia question is asked on Jeopardy, remember that Where’s William Now had you covered.
I would be hosted by their Associate Pro, Matt, who used to work with the F-1 Monaco daughters at the Summit Golf Club. He”d honeymooned last year in Northern California and spun around Pasatiempo in Santa Cruz and Brambles in Napa. He is one of those rising stars in the golf business that is mature and personable beyond his years. And he has the hosting algorithm solved because he kindly suggested that we play the combo tees. Gramps was grateful for the consideration as this would be his 32nd round in 39 days. Gramps’ real age is 58, but let’s estimate his current physical age at 65 and his mental acuity age at 85. After a patented stale popcorn drive off #1, my hat blew off my head. With sustained winds of about 25mph and swirling gusts up to about 40mph, it was going to be another one of those rounds where 80 would be acceptable.
I kept making observations of different courses I had played during my life that looked like holes at Toronto Golf Club. And with an encyclopedic knowledge of Harry Colt designs, Matt was agreeing with most of my comparisons. This Dream Team of tracks included Winged Foot, Baltusrol, Shoreacres, Lake Merced, California Golf Club, Prairie Dunes, Royal Portrush, and Muirfield. And while I was graciously complimenting the beauty and strategy of this wonderful design, the old gal was slapping me across the face. I was like a drunk in a singles bar with bad openers.
I parred the first two, but then boarded the Bogey Train and I had a very difficult time getting off. I bogeyed 3-4-6-7-8 to turn in 39 vs a par of 34. In my defense, the wind was tricky and generally in my face or off the left–two of the most difficult directions for a right handed player. On the back nine, I felt like I was hitting some decent shots but not getting any rewards. I hit a nice approach into #10 but it bounced over the green. I three-putted the 12th, and made an embarrassing bogey on #13, which is the first par 5 one encounters at Toronto Golf Club. That was a swift kick to the pills and I felt myself give up for the first time on the trip. That led to a wiped short iron into the marsh at the par-3 14th and I was on 90 watch. After watching my solid approach shot into #15 wash off the front of the green, I was waving the white flag and resigned to my 6th straight bogey. But a shockingly crisp one handed flip off a tight lie led to my first par on the back side. I felt my shoulders lift a little.
I scrambled for pars on 16 and 17 and stood on the 18th tee needing a par for 80, which was what I considered even par in these conditions. I announced to Matt that I had parred the last hole in every country and state I’d visited so far, and I’d be damned if that streak ended in Canada. Plus, it was straight downwind. A mediocre long iron gave me a wedge into a back right hole location, which I didn’t execute to a club professional level. I was going to need a downwind one handed scramble out of the rough to a tight pin. Like the end of every Rocky movie, you know the ending. A chip a couple grooves low and I hung the par putt on the edge. Streak over, and I tapped in for a big fat 81. As the saying goes, I am ready to take a couple weeks off, then quit. Matt finished with birdie at the last and a classy 76. Thanks Matt! I enjoyed the playing lesson!
Tomorrow, I will wrap up my thoughts on the trip and summarize the epic evening ending in downtown Toronto with Charles and Sera.
In the meantime, please let me know in the comments if you’d like this blog to continue until the next leg or you’d like to take a couple weeks off and then quit.
