Many of the people I like play golf. I played a lot when I was in high school. I was actually getting pretty good, but then I stopped. I can't remember why I did. I like the game. I like watching the game, I like the socialization of the game, I like the thrill of the game, I like the competition of the game, I like the skill of the game. I just don't take the time to play the game.
Golf is one of the many things in life that requires continuous use. Like foreign languages, or playing an instrument, you use it or you lose it. I have not played golf consistently for over 20 years, so I have lost everything of what I once gained. The occasional visit to a local course is actually more embarrassing than it is rewarding. My friends have stopped asking me to join them because they know how bad I am.
A couple of years ago, Frederic took a three day lesson offered by Fox Run Golf Links, our local golf course. I was told he was learning a lot, and he expressed an interest in learning more. The last day of the lesson included taking the kids out for nine holes. Frederic was excited to use the lessons he had learned, and anxious to get out there to experience his first official round of golf. Parents were not allowed to join the kids. This was a big deal for us. Cyndi and I like to be hands-on when it comes to our parenting style. Some may call our style overprotective, but that's not how we see it. Letting Frederic go out on the course for nine holes, without either one of us, was going to be stressful, but we agreed to the deal. I was still working for ECIN at the time, so I had to go into the office (near O'Hare) anyway.
About fifteen minutes after the game was to begin, I got a call. This was when Cyndi didn't have a cell phone, so my number was the only emergency contact number they had (even if she did have a cell phone, it probably wouldn't have been charged anyway, but that's another post). The man on the other end first told me that everything was okay, but Frederic was hurt. The first golfer took his first drive, and the ball shot right at Frederic and hit him in the jaw. It hit him so hard that it left a circular impression of the ball and dimple marks on his face. Frederic never got to even swing one club. They were calling to have someone come take him home.
Somehow I got a hold of Cyndi and she retrieved him from Fox Run. There were only a few moments of guilt between the both of us. Frederic was more disappointed that he didn't get to play than he was hurt from the injury. His jaw was going to be fine, but his pride needed some repair.
Even though I'm not that good, the following Sunday night, Frederic and I went to Fox Run for a nine hole do-over. When we went into the Pro Shop to pay, Frederic was a rock star. Everyone there knew who he was and were praising him for "getting back out there." He was being showered with golf balls and tees (no free golf though), and his ego was getting some much deserved massaging. I think that the guys there were genuinely concerned about his golf experience and did not want him to be afraid of getting out there. They were also probably happy we were not going to sue them. It was an accident and he didn't suffer any immediate (or long-term) issues.
Our game that night was not very good. We didn't even keep score it was so bad. I think we lost all of our balls in the water between us. But we had fun. We connected. We enjoyed the game. We enjoyed the socialization of the game, we enjoyed the thrill of the game, the skill of the game, the competition of the game. We haven't, unfortunately, been back out there.
We went to the driving range tonight. My friend, Ivan, suggested we get together soon--the three of us--and play a round at Fox Run. That excited Frederic. I told him we needed to practice a bit before we actually got out there again. Frederic didn't hit the balls that good tonight. I was just so-so myself.
But when we were done, he looked and me and said, "Thank you, daddy. I really had a good time."
That's why I like golf.
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