Tom Watson, almost 60 years old, was nothing short of amazing in his quest for his sixth British Open title a couple of weeks ago. He gave folks like me (50 and older) hope that the best golf of our lives may still lie ahead. Way to inspire, Tom, and congratulations to Georgia Tech Yellow Jacket Stuart Cink for a fantastic finish and victory.

Speaking of golf across the Atlantic, I had the opportunity to travel to Northern England and to both coasts of Scotland six weeks ago to play golf for eight straight days. Other than a three-hour thunderstorm delay on the runway in Atlanta, and a steady 40 to50 mile per hour wind throughout the day at Carnoustie, the British adventure was phenomenal.

For the past 25 years, a group we titled the ‘Athens Golf Gang’ has been getting together for a long weekend each summer for fellowship and golf. The group consists of a dozen or so guys who grew up in Athens. A few of us go back as far as the second grade. Over the years, we have met up at golfing venues across the south for our annual reunions.

In the early days, we used to play 36 holes of golf, go out to supper, seek post meal amusement, stay out way too late, and then feel bad for an entire week afterward. These days we play 18 holes of golf, go out to supper, return to where we are lodging and fall asleep by 11. Though our waking hours together are now greatly reduced, we return home to our families in much better physical condition. The one constant that remains is the never ending laughter episodes that cause stomach cramping and brings tears to every eye.

Three years ago, the somewhat serious golfers in the group, (eight of us), began discussing an extra special trip to celebrate the year of our fiftieth birthdays. We unanimously decided on Scotland, the birthplace of golf. One in our group is an investment guru and we each gave him a sum of cash in hopes it would multiply over the next 36 months and ultimately finance our vacation. About nine months out, another in our crew began putting together an itinerary. All the pieces of the puzzle fell flawlessly into place and on June 12 we departed for Manchester, England.

After an all-night flight our first stop was the Hesketh Golf Club in Southport, England where we were all cruelly introduced to British rough and gorse. We loathingly called the waist high rough “the hay” and used a more explicit term for the gorse. Only one golfer broke 90 and he shot 87 as a four handicapper.

The next day we played the first Open course on our tour. Royal Birkdale was the site of the 2008 British Open. Tight fairways, increased hay and gorse, plus the addition of 200 famous United Kingdom pot bunkers made this course extremely challenging. Caddies were a priceless commodity on the Open courses and thankfully they passed along some excellent advice on how to hack out of inconceivable lies and blast from bunkers as deep as twelve feet.

The following two days were spent on the west coast of Scotland playing Prestwick and our second Open course, Royal Troon. Both were classic links courses with trouble everywhere. Our hotel overlooked the Irish Sea and we could see Turnberry (where this year’s Open was) across the way.

The ensuing afternoon the group stopped in Edinboro to play a match at the Duddingston Golf Club against eight Scots on their home course. A member of our party had a family connection there and the two respective relatives set this up. Congeniality was the theme for the day on the golf course and even more so at the conclusion of the round in the clubhouse pub.

The Old Course at Saint Andrews was on tap for the subsequent morning. When one walks to the first tee, this place wreaks of tradition. The setting is magnificent and the landmarks immediately familiar. It is every golfers desire to tread this hallowed ground. The course was immaculate and provided a fair layout that each of us savored. The twenty mile per hour wind made the experience difficult yet realistic. My most memorable shot of the week was a forty yard putt from the fairway on 18 through the valley of sin to within ten feet of the cup. Of course I missed the ten footer.

Carnoustie the succeeding afternoon was more than a bear. Most pros state that it is the most difficult Open tract in Scotland. Add wind gusts to 50 miles per hour and it became nearly impossible both physically and mentally for our core group of ten to 16 handicappers. It was by far the most difficult round of golf in my life. I was ready to celebrate at the conclusion because I broke a hundred (by one) and finished without sustaining a bodily injury.

Kingsbarns on our final day was described by a fellow player as the most beautiful golf course he had ever seen including Pebble Beach. Twelve holes offer spectacular views of the North Sea with six of the fairways directly paralleling the body of water and its rocky beaches. The spectacular scenery made our last round in Scotland extraordinary.

Next year will take us to Prattville, Alabama for our 26th reunion. Although it may not be quite as impressive a journey as the 2009 outing, I am confident an experience akin to this year’s will be had by all. When one is with good friends, simply being together is always the priority no matter where the golf may lead.