Life and Golf...Father's Day Thoughts

Life and Golf

A Good Guy

            My father passed ten years ago. He was 84 and lived a good and honorable life. He worshipped the ground my mother and his wife of 54 years walked on. He wasn’t a world class athlete or high powered business man or glamorous in the movie star sense but he did his job of being a father and husband quietly and constantly, never complaining when things were tough and never crowing when things went well. He always saw the good in people and never expected anything else. I realize now that I have much of him in me and many reasons to be thankful for.

One of the best things he did was to introduce me to golf. I was 8 years old growing up in Toronto in 1956 when my dad bought me a set of Gene Sarazen Wilson irons, the 3,5,7,9,wedge and putter and a Chandler Harper driver and 3 wood. The total cost was $39.95. The sporting goods salesman threw in a green plaid carry bag and we were off.                      

We played a course called Humber Valley. It was a public track that cost 55 cents to play. I don’t remember it being in the greatest shape but when my dad and his friends and I played a round, it felt to me like I was at Augusta. I remember waiting our turn on the first tee, watching foursomes go off and just hoping to make contact when we were up. A topped shot on an early morning drive would bring up a big roostertail of dew, followed by much kidding and a sure smile on the Maxfli Blue Dot ball.

Dad was a lefty and I don’t think he ever broke 100. He had a swing that looked like a man either trying to play a cello or get out of a strait-jacket. There was a lot of lateral, horizontal and vertical movement, which probably explained why he was a decent dancer. His attitude was infectious. If he hit a worm burner he would howl in glee. If he hit it well, he would howl in glee. If he made a long putt he would howl in glee. He never offered instruction other than to say, “You’ll figure it out……or you won’t!” He enjoyed the game as much as anyone did.

               A few years back, while visiting from New York, he came to El Caballero Country Club in Tarzana, California and followed me for a few holes. He marveled at the new equipment, the beauty of the course, the weather, and the members that gave him some good-natured grief for being my dad. He loved the peanuts, raisins, and carrots at the turn. “Whaddya mean these are free? Get outta here!” as he filled up several cups. It was a special day for both of us. If I had a chance to do things over, I would have walked down a lot more fairways with him.