Friday, July 26, 2013

Tee Time

Many years ago, my husband and I decided to take up golf. We joined our local country club and began learning the game with lessons, events, and private play. Living in Florida for eight years  allowed us to play twelve months of the year but the relentless summer heat curtailed our games to the cooler outings, similar to living in Wisconsin, only reverse months.

A wicked slice finally got the best of my husband's game. He told me the last time we played together at Bobby Jones Golf Club in Sarasota that he would never play the game again. He banged his driver into the sandy loam so I knew he meant it. He kept his word. Although, his clubs are still in the attic, he hasn’t touched them in more than ten years. So, following his lead, I packed up my clubs in my pretty red bag, slipped the red knit socks on the woods, snapped on the cover and laid my bag next to his. And that's where they have been until last year.
Last summer, my son asked me if I’d be interested in playing golf again. I've always considered him to be a natural athlete and his ability to drive over two hundred yards made the game a cinch for him. Meanwhile, I’m reading my notes for the correct grip, a swing plane, and chipping tips. Did I need to wear the worn golf glove that I found in my bag or not? Waggle or no waggle? Like so many things in life, if you’ve done it in the past, it comes back to you. And my game came back to me.

We continued to give it our all last summer and played as much as we could. I loved every minute of it because it was a sport I could actually do with my son. Coupling it with “loser buys lunch” only made our golf days together even better. Those days are gone now as he is now employed with two jobs. Our golf days together are rare and have been replaced with a ladies league. 

Yesterday, I invited my father to join me in the game hoping to learn some of his techniques. Although in his 70s, he still shoots in the mid 50s for nine holes. We golfed a little nine-hole course near the Holy Hill Basilica. I finished with a score of 66 – which is not bad for me while he came in with a 62. What a blessing for me. I get to spend time with my Dad outside among nature on a beautiful course playing a game that challenges me and thrills me at the same time. As a writer, I've grown used to critiques and actually look forward to them now. The game of golf is the same way. I listen to my Dad's advice and use it. I watch videos online to correct flaws, television programs to improve my strokes, and read books like the one I'm reading now, "The Women's Guide to Golf" by Kellie Stenzel. I'm bound and determined to improve and eventually I'm sure I will.
If you’ve haven't tried golf, I encourage you to give a go. It's an opportunity to spend time with those you love and who love you.
Until then, enjoy the life we have been blessed to live.

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