There comes a point late in the afternoon when a golf course changes its mind. The light softens. The shadows from the trees stretch across the fairways like long fingers, and suddenly the same course you've walked all day feels older than it did that morning.

I've always loved that hour. Not because the golf gets better. Because everyone seems to become more honest.

I've learned more about people walking from the sixteenth green to the seventeenth tee than I ever have over dinner. Golf begins with yardages and scorecards. It often ends with confessions.