The premise of Golf Road Warriors is that a group of journalists can provide insight into the experience of a golf destination by going there, chronicling the visit, and sharing it in word, image, and song. (I hope I’m kidding about the song part.)
You, the reader — though I bear in mind that the average readership of the average blog totals one — surely are not looking to live vicariously through our adventures, but hope to read, watch, and consider whether this looks like someplace you’d like to go.
Journalistically, however, there’s a swarm of flies in this particular ooze. You will be spending your own money. We, for the most part, are not. Does the generosity extended us prevent us from giving an objective view?
It’s a fair question. And it wouldn’t answer the question if I were to point out that the arrangement makes us no different from just about any golf or travel publication or site out there.
You’ll have to make up your own mind on the basis of what you read or hear or see here. In the interest of helping you evaluate my own credibility, I thought I should share with you some of the things I believe (with apologies to Crash Davis’s speech early in “Bull Durham”):
I believe in the white tee markers, the hybrid, chipping areas, the ground game, titanium and graphite, the short par-4 and a hot dog at the turn.
That a pint of Guinness is all the lunch a man needs between the morning and afternoon rounds in Ireland.
That two-thirds of “Golf In The Kingdom” is incomprehensible claptrap.
I believe Dustin Johnson was in a bunker.
I believe there ought to be a constitutional amendment outlawing internal out-of-bounds and the Stimpmeter.
I believe the most dastardly thing a course designer can do is make a golfer think. I believe I can think better than I can swing, except under pressure.
I believe blind shots can add occasional intrigue, and a punch-bowl green promotes happiness.
I believe in the sweet spot, uphill putts, cavity-backs, birdieable 17th holes, pine straw, buying NXT Tours instead of ProV1s, and I believe in quick, fun, warm, friendly walking rounds that last three and a half hours.
Now all I need is to hear Susan Sarandon murmur, “Oh, my.”
