By John Moore, Columnist
Recently my two sons and I had the pleasure of playing golf at the Air Lanes golf course. It was a rainy day and at one point my 3-iron slipped from my grip as I tried desperately to hit a ball only to see my club fly through the air landing some 50 metres away. Fortunately, no other golfers were in range and yelling 4 was pointless taking my game to new lows.
When I teed off at number 6, the one that has the pond right in front of the tee, the bull frogs were all croaking in unison tantalizing me. It seemed to get me to plunk my ball into the drink. I persevered, however, managing only to barely get over that hypnotic water hazard.
Overall, the game was very enjoyable, and it got me thinking about all the games I played at Briarwood in Spryfield just off Herring Cove Road all those years ago. I’ll never forget this little course that had so much character and love in it. It was a par 3 with a front and a back 9. If the front 9 was busy we would go to the back 9 as it was usually always play on right away.
I really can’t remember the first time I played Briarwood, but I can tell you this, it was always so much fun. You registered in the living room and were surrounded by beautiful paintings done by the owner’s wife. Reg, the owner, always had a twinkle in his eye and made everything seem easy when it likely wasn’t. On one occasion, it was my wife’s first game of golf, as we were about to tee off an older gentleman asked if he could join us. We forewarned him it was my wife’s first time at golf, and he laughed and said every game was his first. I noticed he had a little square box with wheels attached to the back of his golf cart. It turns out it was for holding a case of beer which fit perfectly. The man began to instruct my wife with a club in one hand and a beer in the other. It turns out he was a great teacher, and my wife was hitting the ball. Shortly after, he offered us beer and not wanting to seem ungrateful I accepted. My wife politely declined. The instruction and good-natured chatter continued throughout the game and when the 9th hole arrived, and we played it out I was somewhat sad to see the game end. The man thanked us for letting him play with us but in reality, the pleasure was all ours. We ‘ll never forget that game. It’s one of the many fond memories I have of Briarwood.
My son Sean and I were probably some of the last to play Briarwood before it closed. As usual we registered in the living room only this time Reg motioned us over to the dining room table. He proudly announced he had sold the course for $1 million and showed us the receipt sitting there on the table. It hit us hard and playing that last game was like we never wanted it to end. We have met so many great people on the course over the years. There always seemed to be a kind of joy and camaraderie which is really very special when you think about it. I remember seeing one of the ground keepers who literally ran like a deer from hole to hole as he did his job. Reg, the owner told me he was the fastest runner anywhere. I believed him. There was another ground keeper who told me he was running for the leadership of the Conservatives. He was thoroughly convincing as he drove away in his grass cutting tractor. I never saw him again. Oh Briarwood, we’ll never forget you. Thank you to all those who made Briarwood possible. It was an amazing accomplishment. Maybe another Briarwood will rise again. We can only hope.
Happy Canada Day. I ‘d also like to take this opportunity to wish our local athletes who are participating in the upcoming Olympics commencing July 26th in Paris the best of success.
