Like an Olympian thrower, he tossed the club.  It sailed end over end through the cloudless sky, casting a shadow across my face as I followed its trajectory.  Heading for the woods off the ninth fairway, the club tussled with the leaves and then landed with a body-cringing thunk.  I frustratingly looked over at my best friend, Shake, and his beet-red face spoke a thousand words without his lips ever moving.  Correct me if I am wrong, but isn’t golf supposed to be an enjoyable game?

It saddens me these days when I witness a junior golfer enraged at a sport that is intended to emit the exact opposition reaction.  Allow me to let you in on a little secret - every golfer (including professionals) will chuck, top, skull, slice, hook, and chilly-dip numerous shots in his or her lifetime.  The game of golf is terrifically challenging, and there is simply no denying this fact.  If it were easy, nobody would care to play.  But don’t let the challenge of the game overshadow the memories and bonds you can create with family members and friends on the golf course.

A few weekends ago, I had the fortunate opportunity to attend the U.S. Open with my father, Waggle Sr.  Neither of us had been to a professional golf tournament in our lives, so you can surely imagine the uncontainable excitement we both shared as we walked through the ticket booth.  Coming out on the other end, it was as if my dad and I had been transported to another world.  The manicured blades of grass, the flawless greens, the blindingly white sand – after this first scan of the course, my dad and I slowly and simultaneously glanced at each other, smiles plastered on our faces like kids walking into a candy shop.

For the next three days my dad and I walked together around the course, aahing at the great shots, oohing at the bad shots, and pointing shamelessly at every famous golfer to walk by our eyes.  Inevitably, the weekend rapidly came to end after an action-packed, drama-filled Sunday afternoon.  Walking to our cars in the parking lot, a realization struck my exhausted body.  It was so obvious and almost comical that I didn’t notice it before.  Golf does not owe me anything.  It does not owe me birdies, pars, arrow-straight drives, and a deft touch around the green.  It does not owe me rounds in the 90’s, 80’s, and especially 70’s.  If anything, I owe golf.

Let’s face it, my dad has nearly three more decades of living experience than I do.  So naturally, this generation gap causes us to have different interests – except for one.  The golf course is our place to unite, to bond as father and son, and I now realize that we have taken advantage of this opportunity since I began playing the game.  On the course, we have shared stories, philosophies on life, current events, and often laughed hysterically at our less-than-perfect golf swings.  As I got into my car, I was glad to know that I haven’t wasted much energy on throwing golf clubs or storming off golf courses. 

The next time I miss a two-foot gimmie for par, I’ll know I will undoubtedly look up and laugh with my dad, my ultimate partner in golf.  He may not always be with me, but I rest assured knowing that the memories we have created on the links surely will.