Practice Makes Peace

At the golf practice facility this evening, I saw a familiar scene that continues to provoke an unexplainable feeling each time. I waver between jealousy and pride (neither of which are positive thoughts, by the way). When my shots are solid, I mentally flex my pride. When they're not, I harbor some resentment for not having the same privileges.

The scene: a dad (typically a stoic Korean). A young daughter or son. Some variety of training aids. Today it was a metal rod clamped perpendicularly onto the lower half of the putter. At address, the rod was parallel to another rod that laid along the putting line. Daddy's dual science project.

In all the ten years that I've golfed, my dad accompanied me once at Los Serranos South on Father's Day 2008. Last year, I brought him to the range a couple times to get him out of the house. It was a mistake, on my part. He couldn't help himself from giving blind advice or stating the obvious (your ball went left) or asking irritating questions (why did your ball go left?). When my shots were deep and straight, he would squint and say he never saw it.

My father has never swung a club in his life. Yet, he was able to criticize a three putt on the second hole when we were at Los Serranos. I insisted he try putting. With more encouragement, he actually tried. The man waggled the club and sailed it clear across the green. We laughed. Nice touch dad. After the round, I took him to the Tulsa Rib Company in Orange, where we witnessed Tiger catching Rocco Mediate on the 72nd hole of the US Open in Torrey Pines. Truly amazing. It was one of the most memorable times ever spent with my dad.

Next time I see a father standing diligently by his daughter at a practice facility, I'll make sure to smile :)