Aside: One of my buddies on that Ryder Cup boys weekend is a WP alum, former paratrooper in the 82nd, and Dessert Shield veteran. Two things he did while we were there: One, when we mentioned that he walked faster than we could jog as we rushed from hole to hole, he taught us the “infantry march.” Sure enough, we did a better job of keeping up with him, but I got a case of shin splints from it. Two, while strategizing how we were going to get from one green to the next to follow a certain foursome, he pointed and said, “That’ll be our point of egress right there.” My takeaway: Once an infantrymen, always an infantryman.