On a warm Saturday morning, I took Justin out for his first “real” round of golf. I choose the Mission Hills Little League Golf Course in Northridge, CA. for two reason: 1) It’s only seven dollars for nine holes (add your own jokes here), and 2) It’s never busy. I thought it would be a great opportunity for Justin to get a feel for how the game is played. Enough of the driving ranges and enough of the instructors! Let’s play!
I love my son, but I’ll be honest – he bitched and complained A LOT that morning:
1) He complained when he found out we were going to play golf.
2) He complained in the car that the course was too far away.
3) He complained in the car that he didn’t want to play.
4) Then he fell asleep in the car and when I woke him up at the golf course parking lot – he proceeded to complain about being woken up.
5) He complained as we walked up to the Starter’s Box.
6) He complained while eating a snack before playing.
7) He complained about where I wrote his name on the scorecard.
8) He complained that it was too hot.
9) He complained that the grass was too “grassy.”
10) He complained about not having enough balls in his bag.
11) He complained that his bag was too heavy.
12) He complained that he didn’t have enough water, then…
13) He complained that the water I just bought him was too wet. (Not kidding.)
14) He complained that this wasn’t going to be any fun.
And then, he hit his first tee shot…and the complaining stopped. I saw a smile on his face. He hid it from me, but I saw it.
For posterity sake, I took a video of his tee shot on the second hole. This was his second tee shot – ever!
As I saw him CRUSH the ball, I felt pride in my son for learning a sport that I love.
However, along with that pride came another feeling….one of “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!?!?!” There is nothing more sobering than watching a seven year old play his second hole EVER better than I’ve played my 3000th! It’s just not fair.