Wind has a way of getting into places it doesn’t belong.

It rattles flagsticks. It bends ball flights. It plays with decisions that, on calmer days, feel certain. At Penticton Golf & Country Club, the wind didn’t howl — it whispered just loud enough to cause doubt. And doubt was all it needed.

There’s a kind of silence in golf that doesn’t ask to be filled. It’s the silence before the swing, the moment before the crowd leans forward, the pause when a putt rolls and the group holds its breath.

At Sunset Ranch, we had all of it. And more.

There’s something about a first tee of the season that always feels bigger than just a swing. It’s an exhale of winter, a signal to the body that it’s time to move again, and a nod to a brotherhood that never quite left—but has missed the banter, the nerves, and the chase.