Castle Rock On Super Sunday XLVI, last year, my golf buddies and I successfully predicted the outcome of that night’s football game by playing a golf match on the municipal course at Goodwin Park, in Hartford. The course was ideally situated for our match, because it’s pretty close to halfway between New York and Boston. And the park was designed, in the early nineteen hundreds, by the sons of Frederick Law Olmsted. Olmsted Sr. designed Central Park, in Manhattan, but lived in a suburb of Boston. (His sons’ firm, which by then was called Olmsted Bros., also created the original landscaping and real-estate plan for Augusta National Golf Club.)
Goodwin Park is somewhat flat and featureless, and—despite the enticing photograph on its website—there are no snow-capped mountains in the distance. But the areas around the greens were interesting, and playing cost less than a buck a hole. Also, we saw an aquatic mammal swimming across the pond you see in the lower right-hand cover of the photo above. Here’s the mammal:
After the round, Hacker (real name) spoke the phrase “bacon cheeseburger” into the voice-search thing on his smartphone, and we ended up at a sports bar called Damon’s Tavern, which is the greatest sports bar we’ve ever been to because it has flat-screen TVs mounted above the urinals in the men’s room.
If we had thought to bring sleeping bags, we could have taken our naps at Damon’s, and hung on to our table for the football game that night. Instead, we drove home and slept in our own beds until just before kickoff. The game was slightly anticlimactic, however, because we already knew that the Giants were going to win.