Should you believe that the old adage is correct – that it is better to give than to receive – consider this a fitting stop on your daily rounds. That’s because the focus this week is a huge thank you to golf, which for years has been giving and giving with relentless joy to yours truly.

Great friends, warm acquaintances, enchanting travels, rewarding opportunities about which to write, beautiful vistas, intriguing characters, rich history. Golf has given it all to me and in ways that leave me eternally blessed.

One would think that the majestic landscapes, be it those gems on the famed Monterey Peninsula hard up against the vibrant Pacific Ocean or the classic links in Scotland, would be considered the greatest gifts golf has given me. But truth be told, the priceless words and conversations with golf friends mean the most, especially when they arrive unannounced and with a tantalizing touch.

For instance, just last week one of those treasured friends who entered my world through the game of golf sent a note. “I can’t recall if over the years we discussed my connection to North Berwick,” wrote Steve Skillman, who was responding to last week’s “Power Fades” about the iconic golf club in Scotland.

No, he had never told me, so Skilly wasn’t repeating himself when he recalled the summer he spent working on a leek farm in Kingston, a small town on the B1347 in East Lothian, just a couple of miles from North Berwick. Knowing Skilly, who was 16 at the time, it’s not a surprise that he fell in love with North Berwick that summer; nor is it shocking that the father of the family with whom he stayed was a former captain of the club.

Golf gives so much to all of us who love it, and so my passion for sensing the bones of a story in the most unusual manner was piqued.

Farming leeks and playing golf, coming to a “Power Fades” in due time.

Some play golf for the scores and the chance to raise low net hardware. Others embrace the chance to debate the merits and criticism of Top 100 golf courses they will never play. Still, there are those who need the rush, the music in the carts, the filled coolers, the Nassau games with all the junk and presses.

Golf, all of it, and it surely belongs.

Ah, but what tickles my fancy are the friendships and a game that is savored with others or cherished in a solitary fashion.

To hit soft wedges and small pitch shots, especially alongside a legendary figure who is in his 90s and has never failed to make me laugh . . . well, that’s a gift given from golf.

Equally rewarding are quiet nights at another locale where a sultry twilight is the best time to putt because often that is when a friend arrives, a man whose presence is more soothing than soft, warm breezes and the golf conversation is exquisite.

Carl Klump and Kevin Carroll, respectively, in so many ways personify the magic of golf in my eyes, a game that never stops providing pleasure, never stops giving you gifts.

Consider how my mind often drifts to a late-summer afternoon when Paul Murphy demonstrated that his company was even more scintillating than his golf game. That is saying a lot because Murph is an esteemed competitor, his talent and passion shown to you in many layers and watching him put on a sort of clinic at his beloved Charles River CC was a true gift.

Yes, golf will present you horrible breaks, like this ball in a beguiling position during a trip to Bandon Dunes. But so, too, does it give you the gift of great humor, because when things did not work out well for a wonderful friend (in this case Alex Miceli), even he had to laugh.

As delightful as it is to watch great ball-striking, my spirts perk up when history is tossed into the mix – and guess what? That’s another of Murph’s strengths, his stature as a historian being unmatched, especially when Charles River CC is involved. As his pars and birdies mounted and the squares and double-squares kept going down on my scorecard, Murph, one of golf’s gift to me, ignited my happiness.

What was my knowledge of Elmer Ward? Rudimentary, he was told.

Murph nodded, then regaled me with the very cool history of a man who deserves credit for practically inventing the fund-raising powers of the pro-am. A polished golfer himself (he won the 1930 New England Amateur), Ward launched the Palm Beach Invitational in the 1930s and his diligent work through the years proved that pro-ams needed to be part of the PGA Tour landscape. Totally cognizant that the desire to hear, study, and talk about golf history is an acquired taste – and, alas, fewer and fewer youngsters find it appealing – my spirit remains entrenched in all things historical. That is why the day of golf with Murph was a joy, one of those gifts that golf drops in your lap to leave you feeling blessed.

It happens, too, when the invitation is extended to join Bill O’Keefe and Tom Creavy for a day of pure happiness.

Bill is an attorney with an extraordinary grasp of history in all things involving the Celtics, Boston and Rhode Island politics, and, yes, golf. Of course, Bill defers to his compadre, Tom Creavy, when it comes to cherishing golf history -- and for good reason. Tom’s uncle won the 1931 PGA Championship at Wannamoisett (all the 20-year-old Tom Creavy did that year was beat Gene Sarazen in the semifinals and Denny Shute in the final) and his son, also Tom Creavy, is a heralded golf instructor in the Orlando area, having gained fame for his work with Hall of Famer Se Ri Pak.

Ah, but this Tom Creavy – he of the magical short-game setup and touch – needn’t take a back seat to his uncle nor his son when it comes to representing the spirit of golf. Honestly, rounds of golf should go for six hours when Tom Creavy and Bill O’Keefe are beside you; though 18 holes in four hours then continuing the conversation for another two works brilliantly, too.

Story ideas abound when my days are filled with the likes of Skillman and Paul Murphy or Bill O’Keefe and Tom Creavy. And when there are times to sit and reflect upon all those years when it was my good fortune to cover the best players in the world at the biggest tournaments in the pro game, one thought resonates: Golf truly practices the adage that it is better to give than to receive.