State, city and county governments also spend heavily on other recreational facilities that break even at best. Public tennis courts dot every town and will never make a dime. Swimming pools, museums, even state parks, cost hundreds of thousands to maintain, and most don't make money. The Dimple Dell Recreation Center, owned by Salt Lake County, lost more than $100,000 last year, not counting its mortgage.

"Golf for some reason has been held to a different standard than other recreational activities," Whittaker says. "For some reason it's OK to spend millions on recreational complexes, but golf courses were brought online with the idea that they have to make money."

Golf ranks as the No. 2 revenue generator for State Parks and Recreation, ahead of camping and just behind day entrance fees. The state doesn't expect its courses to make money, says Deputy Parks Director Steve Roberts.

"You take a museum — some things just aren't going to make money," he says. "The issue is at what level do you provide a public service and at what level do you want to make money?

"How do we provide a quality product at a reasonable price that most people can afford? That's our task."

Consider New York City's 843-acre Central Park, which costs millions in annual upkeep but is free to enter.

But a golf course is not a park. It's not a place for children, or families or the poor. Even public courses charge around $30 for 18 holes, and that's considered a bargain. Fair or not, golf is tagged a rich man's sport.

But Sears points out his taxes also go to hiking trails that he will never hike, swimming pools he will never use, and libraries he may never visit.

In the end, it's a question of priorities, he says.

"Someone once said, 'A fool knows the cost of everything and the value of nothing.' A city has to look at quality of life, at long-term investments. Mayors come and go, newspaper reporters come and go. But a city lasts forever."

Two years after Sears resigned, some residents are still steamed he led them to buy a course.

"Someone should hold him accountable for the millions he cost us," Cromar says.

Besides the $223,000 the course lost last year, the city spent an additional $64,000 to protect it from flooding. Due to bad planning, or a blind sense of optimism that pervaded every stage of the course's construction, 19 acres of it were built in the middle of a flood plain.

"As long as we have the course, we'll lose money," says Fotheringham.

In July, residents voted to refinance the bond on the course. The new loan is a general obligation bond, which means if the city doesn't have enough money to make a payment, property taxes will go up.

That seems inevitable, unless more golfers start visiting the course.

On a hot day in August, another old man drove up to the course. The parking lot was almost full. He paid for a bucket of balls and hit the driving range.

When he was done, he returned to his Cadillac, popped the trunk, and slung his clubs off his shoulder.

"People have to be patient," the golfer sighed. "This course will do fine, you'll see."

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E-mail: jhyde@desnews.com