Parent's Contribution

With father in a bit of a bad way, I've had cause to reflect on how he and mom and my golf life have intersected.

One of the traits that I picked up from dad was asking questions of strangers.  "What was your father like?  What did he do?  How did you start playing golf?"  This usually worked well to open someone up, but then there was the answer, "I never knew my dad.  But I had a lot of uncles."  Oops.  He was cool about it, but it was an awkward moment.

"Who introduced you to golf?"  If you are black, the answer was invariably a co-worker.  If not then it varied.  But it was rare that someone came from multiple generations of golfers.  That's my modest claim.  When I walk on to a course I remember an early vacation when I was 12 or so and dad and I and grandpa were going to play a round.  The grass, mowed and well tended, the excitement of the outing, the company of dad and grandpa made it quite special.  I've never lost that memory or feeling.  A round of golf is still a treasure.

Dad and mom would on occasion wander off the Rob Roy driving range which was a town or two over from Rolling Meadows, where we lived for 10 years or so.  I got to hit the occasional ball.  I remember mom exclaiming, "Did you see how far he hit that?"  I can see the hitting stations and the broken tees littering the ground.  It was lighted and these trips were occasionally at night.

Golf was a very rare occurrence when I was young -- exclusively on vacations.  When I got to high school the local course in Palatine had a youth rate that was $75 for the whole summer.  I remember playing a bit then.  But rounds with the folks were during vacations until they retired and I could find my way to Albuquerque to join them. 

There were a number of courses we got to play.  The University course, Paako, and some of the other Indian/casino courses come to mind.   Dad was never a good golfer.  I don't know what he shot when he was in his 70's.  I suspect 100+ or so.  His course management was not the best and he was never very long off the tee.  He had practice gear in the back yard, but I don't think he really cared what he shot or how well he hit the ball; it was more being out and playing with friends and family.

I joined mom a couple of times playing with her ladies 9 hole group at Los Altos -- I still have a hat from there!  Nice people and fun to out with them.

As I'm writing this, old memories are coming back.  Dad's best round was an 82, a pair of 41s and I can see the course in my mind, but can't put a name on it.  Hoffman Estates somewhere I think -- maybe Golden Acres?  Dad mentioned that he played there once after a flood and the smell dying worms was potent.  He later belonged to a links type course out west of Palatine for a year or two.  The day he had an eagle and a hole in one, he was playing by himself. 

I played there with him a couple of times.  We signed in at the Pro Shop and the pro mentioned that they had a celebrity on the course.  It was Miller Barber.  11 time PGA winner.  A well known player in his day.  We saw him tee off when we were a couple of holes behind and course wound back on itself.  I remember that the ball was a mile in the air and I never saw it come down.  He had a flying elbow backswing with a huge lift of the arms.  The sound carried over to us and it was different, not a sound I was familiar with.  Probably still true to this day.

Fathers day is coming up -- a time to reflect.  Dad and mom did a real good job raising me.  I'd have to put the introduction to golf as one of the more enduring activities they left me with.  One could argue that coming out of childhood without any mental baggage was as important.  Certainly that allowed all the other successes to so much easier.  "You never get mad," Ted tells me.  Well, it's all my folks' fault for that one.