Arrived on some holy ground today on The Old Course at St. Andrews. Words cannot adequately express the feeling of being on such hallowed grass. There is a hushed reverence about the place that is palpable. That's what happens when mother nature creates and man only maintains. The players respect it. The visitors feel it. The locals live it.
To heighten the dreamy effect of the Old Course, The Open has arrived once again to the attractive seaside town of St. Andrews. There is a buzz in the summery air. The heart beats faster. The eyes more alert. The ears hear nature's siren call.
The course looks perfect for play. The fairways narrowed. The greens shorn shorter. The rough grown out thicker. The winds dialed up. The bunkers deepened. And the angles tweeked. The R&A has set the stage to reveal the best player in the world. The journey begins on Thursday.
And glistening in silence in the backroom of the R@A sits the most beautiful and sublime trophy of all trophies, the Claret Jug, awaiting the jeweler's inscription of the 2010 winner's name on Sunday. Will it be Harrington, Els, or Watson?
Until then...there is much to enjoy.
Cheers.
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