Monday, March 19, 2012
We also on occasion rotated up to the first tee to help with what ever needed helping. As I stood just inside the ropes on one late fall day, watching professional after professional, including the Golden Bear himself, strike balls down the first fairway, I felt a presence next to me.
I looked around and standing by my side was a small seasoned man whose face was as familiar as opening the paper. Although those who knew him swore of his gentle heart, my only knowledge was his sometimes acerbic writing style laced without what could only be called crankiness.
Screwing up my courage, I turned and said, "It's a great day for golf, Mr. Bisher".
He looked up at me from under his floppy, white hat, stretched a broad smile and replied, "Oh, it's a fine day for golf".