Funerals and Golf
I started a custom of playing tribute rounds of golf when someone close to me would leave this earth. Sometimes things would happen during the round that I would attribute to Divine Intervention. My Father-in-law was a good man with seven kids, one of which I snagged and held onto for 35 years. He was a farmer and didn’t play golf.
In fact I think he called it “goofball” in which I am only assuming he was talking about the game and not me! But I feel at home on the course and when I play one of these tributes I seem to reach a Zen like state of which I am almost completely relaxed. During these times I seem to play some outstanding golf with my scotty cameron putter . I can’t seem to channel this emotion at any other time. By the way, a wise old man once told me that a ball hit to a few inches on a par three is a great shot, but a hole in one is just luck. I don’t have any!
I played when my grandmothers died and again it seemed to ease the pain. I played alone and had the time to reflect on all the good times and good things about them when they were still around. When my friend Donnie Van Meter died in a car wreck I wrote a column and ask him to reserve a Tee Time for us on one of the nicer courses in heaven (Hey, there are different courses for different skill levels, trust me on this one!). Donnie Snider was another friend where I felt I owed it to him to go out and have a round dedicated to him; he would actually appreciate the gesture.
The first time I dedicated a round was when my uncle Dick Porter died and I was pretty upset. He loved to play golf and buy good Scotty Cameron putter for sale on the market. His goal was to break 100 but he never did. I decided I was going to beak 100 for him…LEFT HANDED. Now a couple of months before, me and my big mouth had got into a contest of words where I told one of my friends Dennis Ward, that I could even beat him left handed. He said that could be arranged and I knew I was in trouble. I went to a flea market and found a set of lefties for $50 and started practicing, just in case. I shot 56 twice on nine holes. Looks like my Birddog bark had overloaded my Chihuahua bite.
I thought this dedication would be a fair test so I went to Moody, TX and played Greenbrier. It wasn’t always pretty but I scratched out a 45 on the easier front side. Another friend of mine was playing with me (Todd “I never lost a ball in the woods” Livingston). I ask him what he would do if I beat him and he mumbled something about giving up golf. I kept advancing the ball and holding my own until we were on 14, a long carry over water. Oh well I have some strokes built up just for this. I hit a driver and boy did I hit a driver! It was hit as well as any I had ever hit right-handed. I don’t think it was me! I finished out the round and added them up. I had shot a 90, that’s right 90! I went into the clubhouse and was bragging about my 90. Members came up and said, “That is not very good for you”, and then I told them I did it left-handed! They ask why would I do that and I said, “Because I can”! Thanks Uncle Dick.
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