Hey guys,

My friends over at Juniper and James let me tell stories in their journal, and I’m having so much fun. Here’s my first journal entry:

I’ve written it below, but OG article here.

Early Morning Tee Times in LA

I fell in love with the game of golf on the public courses across Los Angeles — Rancho Park, Roosevelt, Woodley Lakes, Balboa/Encino, you name it. 

I’m not sure how they do it in your neck of the woods, but out West, they let you tee it up at the crack of dawn. 5:40am tee times every once in a while. My buddies and I couldn’t get enough of it. Our wives thought we were insane (we were… we are). I’d put my clothes out the night before like I did when I was a little kid prepping for school the next morning. Golf bag at the door, keys and wallet accounted for, everything positioned so that I could seamlessly waltz out the door come morning. 

Alarm sounds, I splash some water in my face, slap some deodorant on, fix myself a glass of water, grab the clubs and sneak on out. I pray I don’t wake the wife. What follows is maybe 20 minutes of time to myself. Oftentimes it’s 20 minutes of time to me and the Lord. Other times it’s 20 minutes of time to me and an older school country music playlist. Just depended on what the morning mood prescribed. More often than not, the early outings took me East of Calabasas, North of Santa Monica to a park, home to three city courses. Encino was our go-to, though you could score a little lower at Woodley Lakes. 

I’d start my drive in the dark, but the sun would eventually poke its head out, the sky turning a hazy lavender about 10 minutes into my cruise East on the 101. 

I’d get there early enough to grab a coffee and maybe some sort of protein bar. The walk and talk and play makes you want to eat a full breakfast, but 5:30 in the morning rarely feels like the time for that. I settle for the Cliff Bar. My wife tells me that stuff is just candy, and I tend to agree, but again… not many choices at 5:30 in the morning. 

For an early slot like this, I’m banking on muscle memory to get me off the tee, no time for the range. I’ll roll a few putts, sip on my joe, and stroll to the tee box. My buddies Tim and Matt would already be there. Tim, Matt, and Luke. I always thought we had quite boring names. In singularity, they were each strong, good names. Together, it all felt too simple. Three syllables between the three of us. Not to mention our frequent fourth, Steve, who left town about a year before my wife and I did. 

Regardless of the simplicity, I found with these gentlemen that it was possible to make best friends in your adult years. A concept I always found difficult, and unrealistic to even strive for. I believe it’s a difficult thing to do, and I think we got lucky. I also think the golf course had a lot to do with it. 

I digress. On the tee box, the sun’s just barely up, and you’d be lucky to see your ball through its entire carry given the fog that’s crowding the fairways — not that we were always hitting the fairways, but you get what I’m saying. 

I think so fondly of those memories. While you can experience this type of slow morning before any morning activity, I’d argue that a round of golf makes space for an experience like this in a way most things cannot. 

Scorecard irrelevant, the mornings before the play began have always stuck with me. The anticipation was always so great. My friends and I were on a mission. A mission to improve, a mission to enjoy, a mission to experience all that golf had to offer — even if that meant getting started before 6:00am. I think AI has overused the term “quiet moments,” so I fear even including it here, but that really is where the magic was happening. I can still picture the dimly lit living room of my home, the drive out of my neighborhood and across town, the neon OPEN sign at the snack bar, the fog, all of it. It was quiet. It was simple. And it was just so good. 

I’ve since moved Southeast to the great state of Alabama. I’ve played a few courses across the South — namely in Tennessee, Alabama, and down near the beach across the Florida panhandle. 

Time will tell, but I believe my next chapter will include a lot of golf. I look forward to the moments and the friendships that come with it, and I look forward to sharing it with those who will read and listen. 

Bout to hit the links in some Juniper and James, and I’ll give y’all the honest review. It won’t be that honest because they pay me. I’m KIDDING it’ll be honest.

I’M NO SELL OUT.

Update: only wore the shorts out there, and they’re the best golf shorts I’ve ever worn. Granted, I haven’t worn many golf-specific shorts, so that’s on me. BUT STILL, fantastic shorts. Perfect length, perfect size around the legs.

Cheers,

Luke Mangan
On Golf