When I was a kid, my mom bought me a set of golf clubs at a church rummage sale. They were antiques even then, with wooden shafts and names instead of numbers. I was enthralled by these clubs. Who wants to swing a 5 iron, when you can swing a Niblick, a Mashie, or a Spoon instead? My golf game was so terrible anyway that it didn’t matter that I was playing with obsolete clubs. I don’t play golf very often, but when I do I still play with antique clubs. And they inspired several stories.
Note: A Friendly Little Round of Golf was published in Stymie magazine but I retained copyright to the story.
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