By my calculations, I've just racked up my 750th round of golf (an approximate figure). I dabbled with the game as a junior, but only took it up properly 25 years ago, and I've averaged about 30 rounds a year ever since.
I remember my first-ever round. I loved it right up until the point when a very angry man stormed out of the clubhouse across the 18th green and gave me a severe dressing-down for wearing tracksuit bottoms and a t-shirt (I was young and didn't know about golf dress codes).
I took the kind gentleman's words on board and despite giving junior golf a swerve at that point, I never forgot the feeling of that first well-struck 5-iron with my old set of Pinseekers.
Fast forward to today and, for me, this is still the best thing about the game of golf - in fact, I believe it's what keeps everyone coming back for more, even when swinging a club feels completely alien.
I see it all the time. Last year I played a round with two beginners. For some silly reason we decided to play off the back tees (sure, why not make the game even tougher) and because of the mix of sun and rain we'd been having, the rough was comfortably over knee height.
This would be medal golf. I don't know what it is about beginner golfers, but in my experience I find that they absolutely have to keep score. Always.
Not one of us broke 100. We should all have been pretty miserable as we sat on the clubhouse terrace looking at our scorecards (I was), but no sooner had our drinks arrived then we were booking a tee time for the following week.
"Why are we doing this?" I remember asking. I was serious. We'd all taken the day off work and could have been sitting in a nice pub garden.
I allowed my playing partners a few minutes to ponder that question, because I was genuinely interested to know why we were apparently so willing to torture ourselves again.
Player A - who shall remain nameless after shooting an estimated 114 - recounted his birdie on 17, which came on the back of a delightful 7-iron approach.
Player B - who put his scorecard in the bin after six holes - talked about his drive on the last hole, which, in fairness, was a beauty.
However, it wasn't the fact these shots led to a birdie, and, in Player B's case, just a bogey, that provided the thrill, so much as the buzz they felt as soon as the ball left the clubface. I know this because Player B spent the next 15 minutes describing it.
It always helps when you finish your round with one of these feel-good moments - the best shots of the day have a habit of coming late in the round to keep us coming back.
However, all it takes is one good strike during the round to give us that rush - it's like a drug.
It's the same feeling you get in other sports: a topspin shot down the line in tennis; a perfectly-struck long pot in pool; a six straight back over the bowler's head; a sweet volley into the top corner.
I'd argue that it's not only the result that gives you that warm sense of satisfaction - be it a winning point or a goal - but the actual rush you get in that split second after contact.
We're probably talking about the release of endorphins here. This is not my area of expertise, but I know my body felt something when I struck the perfect drive off the 1st tee at St Andrews a couple of years back.
Sure, playing the Old Course at the Home of Golf would have inflated that sense of euphoria as my ball came to rest about 75 yards short of the burn, but the feeling was comparable to my 5-iron into the 1st hole at Basingstoke Golf Club circa 1992.
There's a lot to love about the game of golf - the fresh air, the company, the competition, the exercise, the views, the nature - but having played the game now for 25 years, it's this feeling of striking a little white ball cleanly and with great precision that beats anything else.
