I wasn’t born with a golf club in my hand.  Heck, I never even watched golf growing up.  We were tough.  West Siders.  Football.  Tackle football with no pads – not a sport played by guys in white pants and shiny, white, patent leather shoes.  Oh man, but after I picked up my first club and played a round at Pine Hills “Country Club” in … Continue reading The Masters – The Schwartzel Year