I guess the first time I picked up golf clubs I was 10 or so. Our family had a membership at Racebrook Country Club in Orange, CT. This was a golf club. At the time there were no tennis courts. No swimming pool. No other sporting activities to detract from the main 18 holes, and the secondary 9.
I was told that I had a “natural” swing… even when I shanked a shot, I was praised for my swing and how, with a little practice, and a few lessons, I could tame those faults and become a real good golfer.
But I never had a calling to become a real good golfer. Rather my calling was simply to enjoy Sundays with my Father and Brother playing Racebrook’s course… a course that did not overly penalize a player for straying from the fairway.
We get old. I suppose it is natural to magnify memories connected to our youth. We strip away the painful parts, and just leave what is sweet.
Nothing wrong with that.
I loved those Sundays with my Dad and Paul.
It has been years since I have picked up a 3 Iron (my best club). And while I never enjoyed watching golf on TV back then… I do now. Technology is far better. It’s easier to follow the flight of a ball. Better cameras, and more of them. But more important — Tiger Woods is playing.
I wince at the thought of him not making the cut at Winged Foot. But I followed his progress each round on the links of Royal Liverpool on the ESPN website. And on Sunday I watched the final 18 on television.
More than beating the field, it was the way in which he beat the field that truly impressed. In 72 holes of golf, he used his driver (his “howitzer”) but once. He let his opponents out-distance him off the tee, and then beat them off the fairway with his long irons. He dropped putts from every length… perhaps most stunning were his long range approach putts from the far reaches of those huge greens.
When he picked up his ball from the cup on 18 to the applause of the grandstand, he took off his signature Nike cap, punched the sky, waved to the crowd, acknowledged the congratulatory hand shake of his playing partner, Sergio Garcia… and then he hugged his caddie. Their embrace remained, and we didn’t need to see Tiger’s face to know that he was crying into the shoulder of his caddie.
His Father had been there to see his 10 previous Major Championships… and for the first time in Tiger’s life, Earl Woods was not in the gallery to greet his son after a major victory.
I guess the way I see it… Earl was there… he was just viewing it from a different angle.