It’s an odd spot for the future of sports, tucked away atop a hill in the English countryside, two hours west of London. Nailsworth is a quaint little town with a population just north of 5,700. Cottages dot the rolling landscape, bordered by stone walls and neatly manicured hedges and lush green trees with mushroom-shaped tops so thick and perfect they look like an artist’s rendering. On the drive into town on this sunny but brisk October morning, a cow stops in the opposite lane, shuts down traffic and refuses to move, despite the honking protests.
I ask our photographer, Tom—a delightful lad from London who kindly shuttles us both out here so I don’t have to drive on the left side of the road, thus avoiding an international incident—what he’d do if he lived in a place like this.
“I guess I’d play a lot of golf.”
