Relaxing and challenging at once, golf frustrations eventually give way to satisfaction through perserverance -- and somtimes a little luck. Where there are obstacles, there are ways to overcome them. And few rewards are more thrilling than those bestowed by a purely played shot.

And there's always another shot, or another hole, or another day. And besides, there are worse places to be than on a course as pretty and challenging as Disney's Magnolia-Palm.

Though it's true that you "drive for show and putt for dough," it's still fun being showy if you're capable. And the tee shot is crucial for at least three other reasons: 1) It always helps to get off to a good start; 2) It's not a bad thing if you can get it out there a little ways -- and keep it straight; and 3) Every shot on a golf course is crucial.

A golfer reveals much about his game -- and himself -- as he steadies himself over his tee ball. Does he fidget incessantly, trying to get comfortable? Does he grip the club too tightly? Or does he just let it fly?

A friendly foursome composed of Chuck Smith, Lynn Snyder, Joe Stivers, and Stephen Strucker was teeing it up at the long par 5 14th hole at Magnoila. Smith (from Michigan, with a 1982 kidney transplant) was the first to hit, and he set the stage for all the well-struck tee balls to follow. Bending gracefully to plant the peg and the ball, he stood up and squarely over the ball for a moment, then quietly swung back and then through. Simple as that. He retrieved his tee, and sauntered away.

Snyder (Ohio, liver, 1995) was next, and he planted himself firmly, laced his fingers into a strong grip, and bent his knees deeply. With a nice tempo, he unleashed a wickedly powerful downswing and launched a ball straight and deep. Stivers (Nevada, heart, 1998) was undaunted. With a playful little waggle and a wristy prestroke routine, he made solid contact and lashed a low scorcher out there with the others. Strucker (California, bone marrow, 1995), hesitated at the top of his backswing, and with a thoroughly deliberate motion used the extent of his lanky frame to pull a liner down the left side.

Meanwhile, at Magnolia's tenth tee, Jim Hunter from North Carolina was unfurling his smooth, languid swing and sweetly smacking a ball low and straight, with just a hint of a draw that gave it the slightest roll on these wet and mostly roll-free fairways. He was so relaxed that he continued to absentmindedly chew on a piece of bagel as he executed his super-clean hit. Though he had a heart transplant four years ago and a liver transplant just two years after that -- which he says has made him weaker and therefore not as long off the tee -- he still carries a very respectable 12 handicap and is proof that you needn't swing hard to hit it far.

Bob James, from Florida, on the other hand, is a heavy hitting 4 handicap golfer who just gets out over his ball, grips the club, and lets it rip. He says his liver transplant six years ago has slowed him slightly, and he's no longer the scratch golfer he once was, but he acknowledges that that might just be his age catching up with him a little. James hurried slightly over this particular ball, which caused a rightward launch, but he found it in the fluffy rough, in a forgiving lie, and whacked the second shot toward the hole.

On Magnolia's par 4 13th hole, four golfers were eyeing their second shots, and all of them were in reasonably good shape: on the fairway, and within 160 to 190 yards of the flag. The fairway is undyingly undulatingly, however, and thus does not yield many comfortable lies. It is also cut in a tight parabola out of a thicket of tall trees, and it empties onto a miniscule green that is bordered by deep sand on all sides. All four hit good approach shots, but only Clark Beck, a 1972 kidney recipient from Ohio, landed his ball on the green. With a good 18 feet left for birdie, Beck calmly went through his pre-putting routine. His head -- which was bent low over the ball and covered with a ball cap as well as a Novartis headband to keep the sweat off his brow -- was motionless as his shoulders drove his practice strokes back and forth beside the ball. Then he placed the blade behind the ball, and tapped the little downhill twister into the middle of the cup.

This was thrilling for Beck -- a 25 handicapper who hadn't played in 20 years until recently -- and hasn't played much lately due to an assortment of back and tendon and other injuries that derive from high school football and "cattle wrestling" on his childhood farm. His doctors told him he shouldn't play -- not because of the two cancers he endured in a six month period in the early 1990s, or due to his kidney transplant, but because of chronic shoulder problems. But he's determined to play, anyway. And after today's birdie, probably more than ever.

Bo Dahlgren, from Kentucky, is 76 years old, yet he says, "I'm in better shape today than I've ever been." But of course the last shot he hit had just put him in a pretty good mood: a fairway wood whack from about 200 yards on Magnolia's slope-filled 11th fairway. The ball bounced once on the green and held, perhaps 30 feet from the hole. Dahlgren, who's been playing the game for about 50 years, says the liver he received in 1990 has a bit of a negative effect on his golf game, "but not as badly as my swing does."

At 12 years old, Frank KuKulski has already been playing golf for three years, which puts him ahead of many others in this field. Less than a year after receiving a new kidney, Frank was benefitting from the advice of his caddie (his father, Frank) and marching confidently around the course in a stylish cap and cool pair of sunglasses. Of course, his smooth putting stroke will no doubt also help him shave many strokes off his score in the years to come.

Over at the Palm layout, Debra Burk and Sally Ogaard were getting to know one another as they pursued a leisurely yet challenging round. Debra is from Pittsburgh and Sally is from Utah. Both have been playing since they were kids, and currently play at least once each week on their home courses. Sally, a diabetic, received a new kidney in 1993, Debra in 1998. Neither believes their transplanted organ has affected their golf game much, though Debra suggests that it might have slowed her swing down a bit -- which in golf is a good thing.

With much in common -- including their love of golf -- their differences are evidenced by their approaches to the game. Sally, a 17 handicap, grips the club deliberately, and flexes her knees with purpose. Her concentration is evident as she focuses on the ball. Her takeaway and swing are sure and true, and the ball travels as straight as is possible off the tee.

Debra, who says she has a 29 handicap, appears to be a much better player than that. But she's out here for the pure fun of it. She doesn't linger over the ball. Her tee shot was off, and in good shape, before anybody even noticed. And as soon as she found it, she gave it another athletic smack -- though this time she yanked it a little, short and left. Her third shot was a beauty -- a debated 7-iron, launched high at the perfect distance, though since she was set up to the right of her target, that's precisely where the ball landed: hole high, just right of the green. Debra was lying three.

Meanwhile, Sally's approach to her second shot -- a fairway wood -- was a copy of her first, but this time it veered a little right and short. Wendy Argyle, Sally's friend and caddie, got out of the cart and stood directly behind her as she hit. Sally's diabetes has affected her eyesight, so Wendy helps Sally follow the flight of the ball. But the responsibilty for hitting it once they find it, of course, is all Sally's. This time, she repeated her pre-shot ritual and wedged a beautiful little pop-up just over a grassy mound guarding the green, letting it dribble onto the green and then trickle to within about ten feet of the hole. Debra, facing a similar though significantly shorter pitch to the green, warned everyone, "This is where the trouble starts," before competently knocking the ball to about ten feet as well.

Sally had already marked her ball, eyed her line, and placed the ball back in play. Following another precise rehearsal, she sent the ball directly toward the cup, but without enough speed. She calmly tapped in for a bogey. Debra also made a quick and routine two-putt and happily walked to her cart to record her double.