Mom told me it was all arranged. Sunday afternoon, I was actually going to learn how to play. She said he would pick me up and take me to the driving range. He told her he had a couple clubs I could hit. I didn’t know what that meant, but I was really, really, really excited.
On Sunday, after parking his car at the range, he pulled his huge golf bag full of shiny clubs out of the trunk and handed me a couple older clubs probably from a previous set of his. He paid the guy at the counter for two big buckets of balls and we headed out to the range.
Now the range was a long line of stalls on one side of a big field. Each stall had its own green pad and golfer who stood there hitting ball after ball to the other end of the field. I was transfixed. I pictured me sending the balls in my bucket flying just like theirs.
He led us to two vacant stalls at the end of the row and put one bucket in my stall and the other he carried over to his stall. I was finally going to learn how to play. I was so excited. What should I do?
He told me to watch him and do everything that he did. So, he streched and I steched. He took a club out of his bag and I picked up one of my clubs. He put a ball on the short little tee and so did I. He took a graceful swing and the ball went a mile and… Well, that’s exactly when the similarities stopped.
I grabbed my club just like they taught me to hold my softball bat back in the 4th grade. I took a stance like I was waiting for the next pitch and proceeded to take a wild swing at the ball perched on the tiny tee. I raised the club and stepped into the shot. I missed the first and the second and the third. Gripping my club even tighter I took another mighty swipe at the ball. This time it richoched into the divider between our stalls producing a very loud BANG!! Everyone got quiet and looked at me. Then they looked at him and he realized he needed to tell me a few things.
Over the next 10 minutes he talked about the types of clubs. He showed me the proper grip, stance, posture. He walked me through the correct swing. I was shocked. It all seemed so simple when we first arrived. Now there was so much to think about.
My next five “swings” produced a shank, chili dip, topper, worm burner, and another whiff. I had taken a total of 20 swings and had yet to get my ball airborne. He was already half way through his bucket. He swung the club fluidly making the ball soar high in the air and hollered over if I was having fun. “Sure,” I replied as I gripped my club harder and more determined than before and took another chop. Only this time the club hit the ball and flight was invented. My ball flew. I didn’t care that it only went 50 yards. I made the ball fly. Did everyone see that? Wow, what a game!! YES I was having fun.
And just as abruptly as it started it ended. He finished his bucket of balls and told me that I probably had had enough for my first time golfing. He gathered up the rest of my balls and took them over to his stall while I took a seat on the bench nearby. He quickly finished off the rest of the balls. Each one headed out to where the sun was setting. Hey, it was okay. I didn’t mind. I hit my first golf ball fifty yards. The hook was set. When he was done, we went home. My first lesson.
Someday when I grow up I want to teach someone else how to play.
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