Happy Father's Day to all your dad's, imagine what a special one it is for Rory's as he walks the fairways of Congressional watching his son make history..
My dad, Bill is 91 now and touch wood still going strong, if a little more slowly.. Every Saturday morning after Fairways and a workout I started going over to my sister's where he lives to make him a big Scottish breakfast of sausages, bacon and eggs, with a little black pudding, tea and toast, and there is rarely a scrap left..
Back in 1968 my mother had gone back to Scotland for her bi-annual holiday, this time with my younger brother and 2 sisters in tow, so dad and I finally had some time to ourselves to do our favourite thing, play golf.
We could play Parkview, up off Markham road at Steeles for $2.00 after 5pm on Sunday evenings.. the old "twilight ticket".. We'd grab a rickety old pull cart and set off with 2 sets of assorted clubs we'd put together from the sports department at Woolco ( now Walmart) where we both worked part-time.. I use the term "put together" with poetic license if you get my drift..
The idea was to play as many holes as we could before we couldn't see where we'd hit it.
Dad always played in his Sunday clothes that he'd worn to church in the morning, but without the suit jacket and the tie. No golf shoes, his Sunday shiners. He comes from a blue collar golfing family, his brother Kenny was a Scottish amateur champion in his day, so dad has a natural swing and could really hit them, but had no short game because he hardly ever played since he was always working and raising 4 kids He was also the king of the reload.. If he duffed one off the tee, he had the pocket rocket teed up for a 2nd try in a heartbeat..
One Sunday I was playing terribly and we were out at the far end of the course, miles from the car park. I smothered a drive off the heel, almost straight left 30 feet into the bushes, and in a fit of temper I wheeled around a threw my driver off a tree behind the tee, snapping the shaft.
I immediately regretted it, as there was a stony silence from dad. Instead of teeing his ball up, he undid the zipper on his bag, placed his ball and tee in it, picked up my broken club, slowly straightened it, stuck it down where you put your umbrella, grabbed his pull cart and said "let's go"..
I protested, saying I could chip out and still make par etc...He put up his hand and said "you are ruining my day and my round so we are going home"
As we walked he told me that I was a good athlete and had a chance to be a good golfer, but if I ended up like him I would end up working most of my life with just the occasional chance to get out and play, so I might never fulfill my potential. Further if that was the case I'd better enjoy each outing and each good shot and more importantly the company I was with and their games if I was ever going to enjoy golf.....
That was the best lesson I have ever had in not only golf but life, and for those of you who know me helps explain my usually upbeat outlook on life..
I have hardly played in the last 10 years through work and family commitments. I badly injured my back when I was 32 doing squats and have lived with that ever since, and bad backs and good golf do not go together..
However every time I go out, I still feel that thrill when I see and smell the beautiful green grass, and trust me if I could I would spend a year on the practice tee to get my game back to where it once was.. but to be out with the guys, on a nice course, especially playing scramble is about as much fun as I can have..
All because of a lesson in golf and life my father gave me 42 years ago.....
Thanks dad, ...Happy fathers day
Bryan
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