GOLF STYLES | Barefoot Luxury in The Bahamas

Tuesday, January 9, 2018

It’s been said that golf writers are the most underpaid but over-privileged souls on the planet. I won’t comment on the pay scale question – my private banker might take it as permission to begin fiddling with my offshore accounts again. But there’s no doubt that we scribes of the royal and ancient game lead charmed lives at times. Free clubs and shows show up unannounced, accompanied by earnest notes from PR wonks begging us to review them. Inside-the-ropes passes to major events flutter down on our doorsteps like autumn leaves. And the occasional opportunity to tee it up with one of the big boys, while humbling, affords us to up-close-and-personal opportunity to pick a champion’s brain (and nab a few eBay worthy autographs). But the best perk of all is the press trip – the gilded invitation to travel on some tourism organization or posh resort’s dime and report on what the golf world’s newest hotspots have to offer. Golf writers can never get enough of those.

Given all this, it’s easy to understand how those in my profession can become jaded. Free orange juice every morning prior to one’s free tee time is always appreciated, but is it fresh-squeezed orange juice? And was the smile with which it was served genuine or forced? These are the kinds of questions that occupy the minds of those who travel with clubs and laptops for a living.

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