Genuine Gritty Golf Bag

A good friend invited me to a round of golf at a course not named RSPGL. I accepted and we played 3 rounds that day. If you know me on a personal level this would not surprise you as I am known to be relentless when I start something. But this is not a human interest story, it’s a nylon fabric materialistic interest story. It’s a story about my gritty golf bag, but it could easily be a story about your golf bag too.

Golf Bag
Not your typical golf bag story

It was a gorgeous 62 degree day. Sunny, light north wind, it had been dry for at least the last 5-6 days. The course was in nice shape and is always fun to play, but when I finished that day, my golf bag, and sweatshirt that was in the back basket was unrecognizable thanks to the Saharan sand storm from this course’s dust laid-en gravely cart paths.

I Protect Your Golf Bag

I hold nothing against them. Everyone is doing the best they can, at least I always believe that to be the case. It got me really thinking about RSPGL and how lucky we are to have paved cart paths around the entire golf course. These days, people sometimes get on me pretty good about keeping the “carts on the paths”, but these are gorgeous asphalt paths, where we actually take a buffalo blower and blow the dust and clippings right off. Your golf bag never resembles your ShopVac filter. Your sweatshirts never reduced to gritty sand paper. Your sunscreen covered face, never feeling like chalk.

As humans, we are trained to find “bad”. Complaining is interesting. I hear people all the time talking about the bad of other places. I always think, it’s pretty good here. Two weeks ago a player pointed out that some of our cart path was crumbling up near the 7th tee. (The gentleman who empties our port-o-let up near 5th tee, drives up there in a heavy truck, I need not say what makes it so heavy). I apologized, said I was doing my best, and got to thinking again about this other course, my golf bag, and how they charge double what I charge. Golf is weird…and maybe people can’t see what I see. That’s why I share my stories.

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