I ONLY OFFERED HIM MY HAND TO SHAKE, WHICH HE DID. NO HUGGING, NOT IN THAT MOMENT AND NOT IN MY CAPACITY.
afternoons, I suppose it comes to about nine miles (14-15 kilometres) of walking daily. It demands that I be in good shape because announcers sounding winded on-air is bad television. I pedal about four miles on the exercise bike at our rental home be- fore I leave for the course, so I’m warmed up when I get there – not bad for a woman who had a partial right-knee replacement in December. I’m in de- cent shape and don’t regard the physical aspect as a strain. As for the obvious question about vis- iting the restroom, I don’t. It’s called water man- agement. I carry just enough water to replace most of what I feel I’m losing. On a typical 21C-degree afternoon, that’s about 700 millilitres, and not one drop more. The mental part is another story. Every shot is so dear. My concentration is intense because I don’t want to miss a word of what’s com- ing through my headset, and the words never stop. You ask if I had any interaction with the patrons, and I’m afraid the answer is almost none. WITH THAT, ONE OF THE COOL THINGS ABOUT the walks is seeing patrons who return year after year. One person in particular stands out to me. She’s a blonde woman, roughly my age, always wearing sunglasses and a broad-brimmed hat
who sits in a chair behind the 16th tee. Although I’m sure she’s there with friends, she’s always by herself when I pass through. People like her, who I’ve never met personally, and likely never will, strangely have become something like family to me, distant cousins you never get to know but are familiar and strike you as fine people. I did have an interaction with Rory, though. On Saturday at the par-4 seventh, he drove it into the trees on the right. When I got there, I saw a
PLAYOFF PAYOFF McIlroy moments after sinking a three-foot birdie set up by a 125- yard gap wedge approach.
52 GOLF DIGEST SOUTH AFRICA
MAY 2025
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