I don't know what it is about fairway woods. Ten years I've been playing golf - time enough to reduce my handicap to a respectable level, time enough even for Edradour to mature - but not, it seems, to master a fairway wood. Yet I persist in trying and have at least achieved consistency - one of the most acute slices you ever saw (not that I'd let you see). So it was this one time, on the final hole, it happened. The eighteenth is a long hole, with a nasty dogleg halfway along it. I'd overhit my tee shot, and the trees wouldn't allow me the green in less than three. Pity. A pro might do it with a lot of spin. A pro I thought or my fairway slice. I took the wood, a deep breath and swung. And true to bad form, the ball arced gracefully round the trees, bounced on the fairway, and ran to the heart of the green. In the clubhouse later, over a glass I was asked "Who taught you shots like the last one?" Sad to say modesty left me as I replied "Some things just come naturally". Edradour …enjoy life's small victories.