The Wall Street Journal-20080126-WEEKEND JOURNAL- Sports -- Golf Journal- Balls in the Basement- Golfers- vast old hoards are good for nothing -- except triggering memories

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WEEKEND JOURNAL; Sports -- Golf Journal: Balls in the Basement; Golfers' vast old hoards are good for nothing -- except triggering memories

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Titleist manufactures 1.2 million golf balls every day. World-wide output from all companies is more than three million a day, or 1.2 billion a year. Where do all those golf balls go?

"Your guess is as good as mine," said Joe Gomes, a Titleist spokesman. "As a golfer, I know mine end up in the woods and ponds."

Most of my balls end up there, too, but a lot also have ended up in my basement. I don't collect golf balls, I accumulate them, primarily in paper grocery sacks but also in now-moldy shag bags and waterlogged cardboard boxes.

Why? Because I like golf balls, and it seems a shame to throw out a perfectly good one. By "perfectly good" I mean a ball that's still more or less round and within a dozen dental shades of white. A few scuff marks here and there or a bit of peeling paint are no problem. Who among us is without flaw?

Shortly before Christmas this year, a leaky water heater created a minor flood in our basement, which caused me to consolidate my golf balls. This week, I finally got around to counting them. The total came to 1,066. My wife thinks so many balls in the basement indicates bats in the belfry, but it's not like every single thing she does is 100% rational either, let me tell you. And besides, counting the balls was a pleasant trip down memory lane.

It's surprising how evocative individual old golf balls can be. I remember using one ball, with an NBC Sports logo, pretty much every round one spring without losing it. It became my "lucky ball," and I was glad to find it still safe. Another ball, stamped with the name of the Ohio brokerage firm my late father-in-law used, is a relic of our only round together. I also discovered an unopened sleeve of balata Maxfli XF balls from the mid-1990s. These were such an expensive indulgence for me at the time (balata balls had great feel but cut easily) that I never actually used them.

Then there are the geological strata of brand names that I used to play (including one called Strata). Based on the assembled evidence, I was once a true believer in the Titleist Professional and the Precept 33. I played the Professionals in a period when I marked my balls with smiley faces -- an attempt at positive thinking. In my Precept 33 phase, I used a bright blue "V" for victory.

Such hope, such optimism, all dashed by experience.

And it wasn't just the balls that triggered memories. Mixed in with them was other detritus from my 20-plus-year addiction to the game: shriveled-up gloves, metal spikes, a souvenir coin from opening day at Bandon Dunes (May 2, 1999) and old scorecards. One card recorded a match with opponents listed as "R" and "F." I think I know who R was, but F escapes me. Whoever he was, he beat me with a totally undeserved birdie on 18.

In my early years as a golfer, the inflow-outflow equation regarding balls worked against me. I typically went through five or six balls a round. But these days I'm more often a net gainer.

The change is partly improved play, but even more it's ball snobbery. I won't use the balls I find in the woods, even if new, unless they're one of my two or three favorite types. But I will always pick them up. Top-of-the-line balls these days go for $4 each. That's what you pay for a large latte at Starbucks, so you can't just walk on by.

The oldest balls in my basement -- those with cores made of liquid or wound rubber strands -- are probably pretty dead, according to Shunsuke Tayama, the golf-ball marketing manager for Bridgestone Golf. But the newer, multilayer balls are more durable. Even after five or six years, they won't lose significant feel or distance, Mr. Tayama says. "Maybe five yards at most on a well-hit drive," he estimated, a difference masked for most of us by inconsistency.

Mr. Tayama also says storing balls in the winter cold of a garage or shed won't permanently alter their playing characteristics, but you do need to warm them up a bit before playing. A ball at 50 degrees will fly roughly 10 yards shorter than a ball at 80 degrees. Heat won't damage them, either, he says, unless it's extreme. The dimples of golf balls left in car trunks on the hottest of hot summer days can melt into goo, he notes.

The best use for my old golf balls is probably for the kids at a First Tee program or some other golf charity. They are accustomed to large donations.

"That's not a rarity, not at all," says Jennifer Baldwin, director of programming at First Tee of Myrtle Beach, S.C. Apparently a number of retired people in that area make hunting for golf balls along the perimeter of golf courses part of their daily exercise routines and drop by frequently to donate balls, sometimes neatly washed and in egg cartons. In Atlanta last year, one individual gave the First Tee program 35,000 golf balls, putting my paltry collection to shame.

"In a lot of cases, we receive balls when a spouse pushes a golfer to clean out the garage," Ms. Baldwin said. "So we figure we're helping marital harmony at the same time we're helping the kids."

But I'll save a few dozen special ones, for old time's sake.

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Email me at [email protected].

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