I live in the suburbs of our nation’s capital and play golf as much as possible, though not nearly enough.  When I do tee it up I’m fortunate to have two great buddies who never need to be talked into playing, and one heck of a selection of courses from which to choose.  Northern Virginia and various parts of Maryland, I contend, offer some of the finest public golf courses within a short drive of any one location.  Yes they can be expensive, but I have found the quality and challenge of the vast majority of these courses to be worth it.  What isn’t expensive around here?

I love to play the game.  Golf has been part of my life since the age of 7.  My father taught my brother and me the fundamentals in our own backyard and, when we were old enough, he took us to the course to continue the education.  I played all through high school and college with stretches of great success.  And I’ve been clawing to get back bits and pieces of it ever since.

Something memorable happens each and every time I play a round of golf.  The final score, a string of great holes, an incident – funny or otherwise – the course itself, or even a single shot.  It could be anything, and that one thing can help me recall a five-hour chunk of time even years later.  But since I’m getting older (I’m in my early 30s) I worry that I’ll soon struggle with recalling my last great round.  Thus, this blog.

Why not simply write all this down and keep it to myself?  Well, what’s fun about that?

I do not intend to review courses, rank them, rant about clubhouse staff, or criticize course architecture.  Number one, I’m not qualified to do so; and secondly, I’m not terribly interested in airing individual complaints via the Internet.  You’ll be able to tell which courses are my favorites by the frequency of my visits and posts.

And by all means you are always encouraged to share your own thoughts and opinions in the comment section.  Try to be nice though.


“Multiple Non Winner” is a phrase innocently coined by my father in his honest attempt to praise my rather impressive record as a junior golfer in a particular annual tournament…in which I never took home the biggest trophy.  He failed.

There is a two-day junior golf event held each June in my hometown in western Pennsylvania.  It is cosponsored by the host course and the local newspaper.  For these two days the sports section is dedicated to covering this prestigious tournament, replete with color pictures, interviews with the top finishers, and a list of all the participants’ scores.  It’s basically The Masters for every 13 to 17-year-old in the Shenango Valley.

Most notably, in a nod to history, the paper lists all the past champions right next to the picture of the newest member clutching his trophy.  I was in that picture twice – as the runner up.  I also have the memory of a firm handshake for finishing third one year.

My father views this as a positive, though disappointing, record.  Like Sam Snead in the U.S. Open, I guess.  All it took was for my father to use this description in front of my two golfing buddies, and the phrase stuck.

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