Once, as but a kid, he swept up around the pro shop, then parked carts, which was kinda fun since he didn’t have a driving license.

He did more and more work, then for pro Henry Castillo, who gave him some lessons, and he began to play the game. The thoughtful Castillo, a good and stylish man who was, always, it seemed, tall, gray-haired, long-hitting and long-gaited, must have taken lessons to keep his slight Spanish accent. The kid began to play better and to believe, as he and Henry agreed, that he had a future in golf, somewhere.

In time, Henry Castillo’s protégé, Joe Hodge, was going to be a golf pro, if not a fulltime playing one, well, one like Henry, a 24-hour one at a nice golf club, like Palma Ceia here in Tampa.

Castillo taught Hodge to be like him, in the pro shop, on the practice tee and on teaching rounds of golf. Castillo taught Joe to be a pro, and had him ordained one. Hodge learned and learned and became a well-dressed professional for Castillo at the upscale, centrally located course in the area of its name, not far from Joe’s Tampa General Hospital and his parents’ South Tampa home. Hodge’s interscholastic time was spent at Mitchell, Wilson, Jesuit, and then the University of South Florida, where he was well coached and managed by Bobby Shivers.

Castillo stuck with Joe, made him a pro when it was time, taught him the polish of the pro shop the fairways, and when Ken Goode and Jim Abthorp built Tampa Palms Golf Course and community, agreed Joe should take the job. He did, he ran the first two big PGA Senior Tour tournaments there, chased off his share of alligators and rattlesnakes, and then got his shot at a masters in pro golf club finery and statesmanship there, as well as managing as growing a complicated club that is a beauty now.

Then came the offer from the wonderful George Jenkins’ Publix folks to take over their Lone Palm course, a jewel and a model, this side of Lakeland. He has been there for a long time. He has loved it — loved it. Still does. Still will, he said. But…

Joe Hodge got the only call that could have lured him away.

It was a call from home.

Not many get such a call.

Palma Ceia was offering him the job at that grand old club of his youth, where he scrubbed the mud off clubs and carts, where it all began. Selection chairs Ross Hayes and Fred Ridley and their committee, some said, had 400 applicants for the job at the venerable golf place getting a face lift, including a new pro shop, cart arena, parking garage and who knows what else, to take the place that pros Castillo, Henry Bolesta and Gene Sarazen once worked.

Palma Ceia-bred Joe Hodge moves in before that’s all finished, but moves in to fulfill a dream he thought never would, could, come true. Not many of us would have thought Gil Gonzales would retire, but he has, effective at the end of this month.

“No, I never thought this could or would be,” said Hodge, who certainly hinted it could happen. Of course, it is a dream that did come true, and how rare is such a thing? It seems like it has been a perfect ride, so far.

Hodge chose to move to Tampa from Lakeland seven years ago, but not with this mind.

Now his drive to work is four and a half minutes, not 45, or will be. And he won’t have to risk any time on I-4. Worst part of his drive will be crossing Dale Mabry.

And may be hit on the head on No. 2 by somebody who sliced a drive off Palma Ceia’s parallel No. 1.

He said he’d take that chance.

There have been no objections, with which I am familiar.

Good.