Sharp Park

A reflection on everything I love about golf. Today – Sharp Park.

I had my first birdie and par at Sharp Park, in that order. I have fond memories of this seaside muni in Pacifica. My Dad was a firefighter and I would stay overnight in the firehouse with him, then in the morning, we would drive over the hill from South City to Sharp Park and I would tag along with him while he played with his usual foursome. I started doing this when I was about 10 years old and it started with just walking, then two or three times a round, Dad would let me run ahead to the next tee and hit a five iron. We did this for a good year or so, then we would sneak on in the evening and play a few holes. Eventually, my Dad, brother Vin, and myself would play 18 holes. During one of these early rounds, I hit a driver barely over the lip of the front bunker and it rolled up to about six feet and I drained it for birdie. Not sure fist pumping was a thing back then, but I can remember the feeling of the huge smile making that birdie brought to my face. Shortly thereafter, I made a par 3 on the 12th hole, which a couple of weeks later got washed out by a huge storm. At that point, I loved golf, I thought about it all the time and I would visualize good shot after good shot anytime I was not at the course. Lot’s of good memories at Sharp Park, it is a special place to me.

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