Sport's core is here, in gorse, bunkers, sea.(Sports)

Byline: BILL PLASCHKE

ST. ANDREWS, Scotland - The road back to our sporting soul begins on, well, a road.

A regular road, one lane, paved, black and straight, filled with footsteps and tire squeals and life.

The road was once used to haul boats between the North Sea and this tiny medieval town. It is currently used by families walking to the beach, children kicking soccer balls to school, motorists taking the scenic route.

It's called Granny Clark's Wynd, and there's nothing too special about it, with one exception.

It cuts directly across the first and 18th fairways of the Royal and Ancient Golf Club of St. Andrews.

"The road is in play," explains Alan Duncan, a wrinkled and tobacco-stained caddie. "The ball hits a car, it's in play. The ball hits a person, it's in play. The ball stops on the blacktop, pull out an iron, it's in play."

And thus this week, a most splendid bit of sports history is in play, the British Open returning to golf's crooked cradle, delivering a midsummer postcard about how sport began.

Wish you were here, indeed. …