Guy Yocom: It’s easily the most subjective call in golf. I know South Floridians who won’t go to the grocery store, let alone play golf, if it tips below 65 degrees. Conversely, there is a college buddy of mine from Montana who not only plays when it’s 35 degrees, but wears shorts. The threshold for me is whether I can find someone to play with. Playing alone on a freezing day, every other thought tends to be, “Damn it’s cold” or “What am I doing out here?” You need brothers in arms to deflect all that. Cold-weather golf has its points. It gives you a fake sense of achieving something semi-heroic, golf’s version of the Shackleton Expedition. Nobody ever plays slowly; standing still hurts too much. The desire to bet, and hence grind away, takes a refreshing back seat for once, as playing is an end in itself. And a mug of hot soup afterward never tasted so good.