David Robbins: I had life down to a tee living in a golf world as a teenager
It was a relief, last weekend, to escape the cares and woes of the current national predicament. And to disappear into the world of golf. The Masters was on and one could, without much effort, lose oneself among the pines and azaleas of Augusta National. (Although the memory of the €200,000 Anglo spent on golf balls did occasionally flit past.)
For golf, more than any other sport, manages to create a self- contained, hermetically sealed world. It's a nice place to live: the weather is generally pleasant and the greens are true.
I spent some time there in my teens, and often wonder about going back. Is it possible, I wonder, to return, or is it like innocence: once lost, it is lost forever.