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I began playing golf in the mid fifties. I lived in Long Beach California and had just finished high school at Woodrow Wilson. Right behind the school is Recreation Park with a regulation 18 hole course and a 9 hole across the street.
I had never played before but used to hang around the clubhouse in the summer to see if I could pick up a couple of bucks caddying.
One day, out on the putting green, I saw this guy with a putter that looked much like a croquet mallet. It was really nothing more than a cut down shaft centered on a rectangular block of brass about the size of a cube of butter. He stood facing the hole with the longer side of the head as the striking surface and swung between his legs. He was dropping putts from everywhere. I had never even owned a golf club before but I thought if I made one of these I could pass some time with it on the putting green.
To make a long story short, I made more money on the putting green than I did caddying and I still had not played the game.
I did eventually start playing as a single with rented clubs. I was awful but my putting was much better than nearly anyone I was sent out with. Until it became illegal, I always wondered what all the fuss was about with everybody's putting problems... It always seemed so simple.
WOW...! What a pleasure it was to walk up to the green actually looking forward the task at hand. I never "lagged". I always felt I had a reasonably good chance to make it from anywhere.