There are two different stories about the final round of Bobby Jones’ life, and there’s something to be learned from both stories.

One version of the story is that Jones played his final round at East Lake in Atlanta on August 18th, 1948. It’s the place where he played his first rounds as a child and learned the game that brought him fame and success. There’s a picture in the East Lake clubhouse marking the round.

The other story is that Jones played Wahconah CC in Dalton, Mass., on August 15, 1948 with a friend on his way back to Atlanta from Boston.

There is an original painting by Rene Clark along with a letter in the USGA Museum commemorating the round, and a 2013 article by Richard Lord in the Berkshire Eagle details some of the effort made to authenticate Jones’ round.

The round at Wahconah is marked as his final one with a letter that included the phrase, “This was my last effort, sorry it was not a better one.”

The story of both rounds highlights something that strikes at the heart of what makes golf so great.

It’s about people and places.

What we do know is that a 46-year-old Bobby Jones was in Boston to see a doctor because of some severe pain he had in his neck. The diagnosis wasn’t good; in fact, it was terrible. Jones was told he had syringomyelia, a rare and degenerative disease of the central nervous system; it was painful and incurable.

The man who dominated golf as an amateur, winning the Grand Slam in 1930, would be confined to a wheelchair in short order.

On the way back home, Jones planned to stop by Wahconah CC to play with member Bill O'Connell, a friend of Jones. Bruce Crane and Rankin Furey rounded out the foursome.

Some think that Jones might have played East Lake three days later, likely a bookend to his golfing life.

Here’s where I choose to believe both stories.

Jones knew these were his final rounds, and he chose people and places that were important to him. The nine-hole walk at Wahconah CC was with a friend on the heels of receiving such horrible news.

On the other hand, three days later, Jones might have played East Lake. He might have wandered out and hit a few shots at the course that gave birth to his love of the game and helped him hone his craft half a century earlier.

He was able to close the book on that part of his life.

Jones would live another 23 years. The final third of his life didn’t allow him to play golf.

So those final two rounds signify what’s so great about the game.

He was able to walk with a friend in a time when his world had been shattered.

Who knows what they discussed? Who knows if Jones opened up about his diagnosis or just found comfort in a round with a friend before heading home?

Some people would want the opportunity to know they are playing their final rounds. Some would rather not.

Some will have the choice and others won’t.

Jones did know his time on the golf course was limited, and he was able to play golf with a friend and then play golf at a place of meaning.

So as the season gets going this year, stop and appreciate the day as if it were your last round of golf.

Remember the courses that you love, the ones that you’ve played hundreds of times. The ones that helped you fall in love with the game. Then remember those friends who have been with you during your birdies and bogeys. The ones you’d choose to walk with after bad news or good news.

That’s what matters.

That’s what makes golf unique.

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