I’m going to miss you, Old Blue.
Growing up in the north, Doral’s Blue Monster was more than a golf tournament. It was a symbol, with its shimmering beauty beamed into my living room from overhead blimp shots.
Its stirring images were a hopeful sign I would soon be seeing that first robin returning home in the spring.
Doral’s arrival on our family TV set was a reminder that the last patches of winter snow were about to disappear and we would soon be thrusting open our windows to let the warmth of spring’s invigorating thaw inside.