“Welcome to paradise,” the starter said as I handed him our foursome’s proof of check-in. No one could argue. Not on this glorious Monterey Peninsula afternoon. The sky was blue, the wind was imperceptible, the temperature an ideal 18 degrees Celsius. SoCal conditions in NoCal.
But I hadn’t flown 16 hours on Delta Air Lines from Asia - and then another two by car from San Francisco - to bask in the weather. I was here to find out how a 9-handicap game would translate at Pebble Beach 36 days before it was to welcome the world’s best golfers for the 110th edition of the US Open — the Toughest Test in Golf. The other three players in my group — Mike, a 1-handicap from Aspen; George, a 28 from Boston; and my brother Colin, a 12 who lives in the shadow of the Golden Gate Bridge — were keen to discover how they would fare, too... although not all to the same degree.
“I’ll be happy to make a couple pars,” said George. “Heck, I’ll be happy no matter what. Isn’t this place wonderful?”
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