Good luck and I only go just so far together. I'm apparently programmed to bid adieu to good luck at some point before things get too cozy. For some reason, I'm actually OK with that - I guess I even like the whirlwind nature of our relationship.

Take last Sunday. I don't play a lot of weekend golf for a lot of reasons. I'm married to one of them. If you could play 18 on a weekend in under 4 hours I'm pretty sure a lot more dads would play more golf but weekends are just painfully slow - especially after you get used to the midweek pace. The one good time to play on a weekend in late Sunday but, in my house anyway, that's a tougher ticket than Red Sox/Yankees. So I go about my business on Saturday (yard work and watching my son watch lacrosse) and on Sunday morning, just for fun, I ask if I can go golfing. I believe the actual response was a laughing noise which I took as a bad sign. No matter. I had no plans anyway so it was back to edging, raking, planting and mulching. Then (here's where good luck came knocking) Neffa calls asking if I can play in the afternoon. I explain my situation and we figure I'm 50/50. Since, in reality, I'm 0/100 I know I'll need a huge lift from good luck but it doesn't scare me for some reason. I'm actually counting on it. Makes no sense.

My wife returns from some errands and I'm trying to figure exactly the right time to ask again. This is extremely tricky and the timing and delivery need to be perfect. I don't feel it so I keep mulching but I know time is running out. Before I can trot in the closer, she asks (good luck comes up huge) if I have someone to play with. Out of nowhere. Wham. And I'm off. To Toddy Brook.

As I'm driving to Toddy Brook in North Yarmouth I can't believe the good luck to be getting out on a sunny Sunday afternoon. I even say it out loud. I played Toddy Brook half a dozen times between Thanksgiving and mid-January and loved it. I was looking forward to seeing it with green grass and open water. I had scored well there under adverse conditions so I naturally assumed I would score even better without the winter gloves and long johns. Makes sense, right?

That's where good luck dumped me for the day. The course was lush and green. The greens were smooth and quick without being brutal. My game, however, was brutal. Imagine Doug Mirabelli trying to lay down a bunt. That was me.

Toddy Brook (www.toddybrookgolf.com) opened its second nine in 2005 and the course now is a par 71 that can play to just over 6200 yards from the tips. While the front side is relatively flat, fairly wide open and has some good scoring chances, it also has some tight shots that will test any golfer. The holes that are tough to get to have generous greens and the holes that look easy from the tee, have smaller putting surfaces. #5 is a short par 5 that can be reached in 2 but the green would make Donald Ross proud with its inverted bowl shape and small diameter. #6 is a long par 3 (184 yards from the blues) with overhanging trees to contend with but the green is huge. It's a fair trade.

The back nine really starts on #11 when you cross the road and immediately you notice the difference as you start to wind around a considerable hill. 13 and 14 are two great holes. Both allow you to let the big dog out to play without a leash. #15 is one of the nastiest holes I've ever played. It's all uphill so it plays long and the green is pretty much devoid of a single flat spot. 2 putts there is very good. By the same token, #17 is one of the most fun holes I've ever played. It's a downhill par 5 with water in play. The finish is a unique experience. It's a short par 3 (112 yards from the blues) with a green pretty much completely surrounded by water. Save one good wedge shot and you'll make the people on the deck cheer. I believe we heard groans and laughter. No matter - my luck was used up just getting out to play. It's all I could ask.

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