The Commish sent me over a text asking of my availability for the little golf league that could.

She had a meeting she couldn’t miss.

I was thrilled when my appointed Tuesday arrived with blue skies. This summer of yuck has kept my golfing to a minimum.

A thing of beauty.

The glory of a post-work nine at pretty little Northern Pines came rushing back as soon as I pushed my clubs up from my car to the rim of the course.

Morelli hits it on a string.

DJ limited to wedges and putting.

Lovely Linda makes great contact.

Walking the course with Morelli, DJ and Lovely Linda made me feel as if I’ve never left the league.

Logjam at No. 12.

The three-foursome backlog on the tee of our third hole was familiar, too.

A good time was still had by all.