IS YOUR COURSE SAFE?
Closing Time?
     I’m not a fatalist by any stretch. But, I worry as much as the next guy about the important stuff, you know, like:
How my kids will turn out, whether my 201k will ever become a 401k again, is my haircut current so I’m not walking around like a dude from 1986.
     Lately I’ve added another worry to the list and this one’s a biggie.
     Will my favorite course stay open?
     That sounded like a silly question a year ago, but now not so much.
     Sure, the “Tiger effect” had worn off and rounds played were back down to pre-Eldrick days long before the recession, but I wasn’t one of those numbers. I was hacking way before Tiger showed up at Stanford and plan to be hacking long after he leaves the Champions Tour (like he’ll ever play the Champions Tour).
     But the question that keeps cropping up in the back of my mind is where I’ll be playing all of those bad rounds of golf.
     No course I frequent has publicly come out and said it’ll be closing its first tee any time soon. Not that they would since that would be bad for business, but I wonder.
     Bad economy.
     Massive job losses.
     An expensive game to play.
     The numbers aren’t good if you’re worried about either paying the electric bill or your green fee.
     Courses (I’m a public course player true and true) can discount their rounds only so much before their reputation sinks. And if they do it too much, once things turn around, guys like me will still be looking for the cheapo rates.
So, what to do?
     I guess like the rest of the economy, the courses hold on and hope for the best, like me. But not all will be so lucky. (According to the National Golf Foundation, over 350 courses have closed since 2006. Obviously, many before the recession hit).
     Having been down this cart path before, I cross my fingers that it’s not one of mine that fades away today or tomorrow.
     You know, the place where you feel the most comfortable because you know every inch of it. Where you know what’s on the menu, and what not to order, in the grille room. Where you know the starter.
     Marsh Harbour in Myrtle Beach was like that for me.
     Every year, the “Harbour” was on the list of courses our group would play. True, as the group leader, I usually picked the courses we’d play, but nobody ever griped because we all loved it. It felt like home.
     Then we got to the 10th tee during a late winter round and the souvenir photographer just happened to mention “what a shame it would be when this course closes in a couple of weeks.”
     “Excuse me, but did you say this course is closing? Marsh Harbour?”
     (The lease for Marsh Harbour was up and the owners decided to shut down).
     At least we were warned. We still had nine holes left to enjoy. They were the quickest nine holes I’ve ever played.
     Today, nearly seven years after the “Harbour” closed, the sign is still there – muddied quite a bit. And if you look down the driveway leading to the clubhouse you can see how everything is grown over.
     If not for the sign, you’d never know a golf course used to be there.
     I wouldn’t wish that feeling on any golfer.
     I hope I don’t feel it again, especially close to home. But I wonder.