One more round of golf with dad -- a walk of memories

[Asleep]

One more round of golf with dad -- a walk of memories

Gary D'Amato | Milwaukee Journal Sentinel

 

My father will be 86 next month. He has had two back surgeries, both hips replaced, prostate cancer, lung surgery and a detached retina, which went undiagnosed too long and cost him most of the vision in his right eye.

 

He wears hearing aids. He walks with a cane, shuffling the way old folks do, the way you swore your dad never would. Normal pressure hydrocephalus — fluid on the brain — has ruined his short-term memory. A shunt to drain the fluid might help, but he has sworn off surgery. Can't say that I blame him.

 

He'd taken up golf in his 40s, probably because he saw how much I enjoyed the game. Within a few years, he was scoring in the mid-80s at Grant Park, his swing short and quick.

 

But time and all those surgeries robbed him of his ability, and then his desire. He hadn't touched his golf clubs for 15 years, the old Pings stored away, presumably forever, in the basement at his senior housing complex.

 

A few months ago, he surprised me when he said, "Gary, I'd really like to try to play nine holes with you this year."

 

As the weather warmed, I reminded him about what he'd said but he seemed less and less enthused about playing golf. He rarely left the comfort of his recliner, despite my constant urgings that he needed to get up, to walk, to move.

 

I wasn't going to let him off the hook that easily. I scouted the little par-3 course at Zablocki Park, with its 70- and 80-yard holes, and told him there were benches on every tee. We could take our time. It would be fun, I assured him.

 

While we drove to the course, I thought about that day 42 years ago, when I played in my first junior tournament. My dad took a day off from his factory job and showed up behind the first tee. My stomach in knots, I snap-hooked two drives out of bounds and he got in his car and left. That's a sting you never forget.

 

Then there were all those rounds later on, when I should have enjoyed playing alongside my father and instead spent four or five stressful hours trying to impress him. There was the time I slammed my putter into a cart path and broke it after missing a 3-foot putt. My father simply shook his head as I stormed to the next tee, whining like a baby.

 

He laughed at his own bad shots, something I couldn't fathom. Didn't he understand how important it was to play well?

 

There was the time we played a round with his friend; my dad kept complimenting him for his good shots, seemingly oblivious to the fact that I was playing one of the best rounds of my life. On the 18th hole, I let my anger get the best of me and wondered aloud why he hadn't praised my prowess.

 

Such immaturity. Such foolishness. So many chances to enjoy the great game of golf with my father at my side, gone forever.

 

We pulled into the parking lot at Zablocki. I grabbed three irons, my putter, a handful of tees and two golf balls. Dad walked slowly, unsteadily, to the first tee. He complained that his glasses were sliding down his nose and bothering him, so I ran them to the car. I was having second thoughts about the whole idea.

 

I teed up a ball for him on the 79-yard first hole and without the benefit of a single practice swing he lurched into an 8-iron tee shot and hit it halfway to the green. Three shots later, he was putting.

 

On the second tee, he said, "Oh, oh, where did I put my glasses?"

 

We rested on benches on every hole. We talked about anything and everything. As slowly as we walked, the round flew by, dad and I exchanging cane for pitching wedge or putter, me teeing up his ball and picking it out of the hole and then shuffling off to the next tee.

 

We treated the gentle downhill grade from the sixth tee to the green as if it were the black diamond run at Vail, inching our way down the slope.

 

After seven holes, he was wearing down and I suggested we quit.

 

"No," he said, "I want to play nine holes."

 

He nearly reached the green with a well-struck tee shot on the 77-yard eighth hole and made a bogey, his best score of the day.

 

After we teed off on No. 9, he took a few steps and called for me.

 

"I feel like I'm going to faint," he said.

 

I dragged a bench over and we sat down for 15 minutes, letting a twosome play through. Dad was huffing and puffing and sweating profusely.

 

"Come on, that's enough," I pleaded, but he insisted on finishing.

 

He staggered off the ninth green, exhausted but triumphant. As I helped him into the car he apologized and said, "You probably didn't enjoy this at all."

 

He couldn't have been more wrong.

 

I don't even remember the last round we played together, years ago, before he got old and I grew up. But I'll never forget this one.

http://www.jsonline....-265455321.html | Send email to gdamato@journalsentinel.com

 

reprinted with permission

[Par Fore]

well I swore I wouldn't cry this 4th of July, thanks for making me a liar.

Honestly, thank you for sharing this.

[jay65]

Phew!! A real danger of leaving a lump in the throat with that!!

[Daniel Eason]

epic

[DeCuchi]

What a great day for both of you! I was just sitting in the pro shop finishing my beer and thinking what a great day today was. I played 18 with my dad and the asst pro from the course dad first introduced me to this game to 33 years ago. His son joined us halfway through the round. We spent the day competing and laughing telling stories of the old course and the characters that were there. Many of those great guys have passed on, but today they were out there on the course with us. The course we played on is actually the same place, just redesigned and run by one of the major golf companies. Back then it was just a small public course owned by the head pro. Complete with gravel parking lot and cart paths. In the middle of all this we were having a heated match. Dad played well shooting even par 70 at age 73!!! Marty shot -1 69 and I drained a 30 ft putt for birdie on 18 to shoot 68. Your story just reminded me how lucky I am to still have days like this with my dad. Thanks for taking the time share it.

[bdoody42]

Awesome!!!

[wmblake2000]

What I would give for just one more round with my dad. He had Big Time Polio in 1954 that nearly killed him. He lost the use of his arms and hands forever at the age of 27 with two young children. But somehow, his love for the game infected me, and even in rural Arkansas, where none of my friends played, I worked and bought a set of clubs at the age of 11 or 12. He was a Hogan fan, and taught me several really bad fundamentals based on his misunderstanding. He would walk with me as I played. Incredible now, to remember it.

You don't see it as a kid, but I do now. I really wish I would have told him just one time how much I love and respect him. He never knew how I came to view him once I matured enough to stop being an angry asz.

[Callaway_Golf_Freak]

Thanks for sharing that

I lost my Dad 27yr's ago and never got the chance to play golf with Him.





I miss my Dad.

[bladehunter]

wow.....my grandfather who raised me spent every waking hour working to support our family....as my grandmother did not work (outside the home that is) He worked as a heavy equipment operator shaping greens and tees on new courses and old ones being refinished. he loved the game...but never played.... He would however watch everytime golf was on TV...I of course got my 1st job on a course near our home mowing the same greens and Tee boxes he had shaped 20 years before....I didn't see it then but I do now how much I was trying to be like him. I played from age 15 to 22 but never got serious as I was like all a dumb kid who knew it all and got married started a business and didn't touch a club until last year..age 34...We lost my grandfather 3 years ago he was 89...he never got to see me get serious about the game and I never got a chance to drag him onto the course for a round...Id give anything to walk a round with him.... I can only imagine the conversations we would have... if you still have your dad or granddad play all you can with them...some of us don't have the luxury and wish we did...

[gnew23]

What a great story. I am glad you got that round in with your Dad.

[Wriggles]

I was an only child. I've probably remarked on this forum about what a great Dad I had. He passed away in 2005 at age 85, and my mother followed him two months later. I've missed him EVERY day since. He wasn't much of a golfer, his game was billiards. I developed a taste for golf (age 10 )after a pal got two beat up clubs from his granddad. We used to hit balls in the backyard and an open field. I could go on and on with stories how my Dad took me many times to a public course near home, and walk nine holes with me. He caddied my Sunday bag and cheap 4 clubs I bought with birthday and Christmas money. He brought home one day from work, an already ancient half set of pyratone clubs from the late 1920's. He paid a co worker $3. I was just thrilled to have them, and spent the next day or two cleaning and polishing the clubs. To this day, I very much enjoy sprucing up old clubs.

During those years, Dad would play with me occasionally. Years past, and Dad and I didn't get out golfing together much. I can say that I saw my Mom and Dad almost every day of my life, except when I was drafted. Still, one regrets not doing more, some stupid thing, for example, that you didn't do. The last time we golfed was in 1993, when he was 74. We rode in a cart, although he was still in excellent physical condition. I played pretty well, Dad wiffed the ball quite a bit, like I said, he wasn't really a golfer. We had a great time that day, and I regret not playing with him more. Dad was truly my best friend.

I never had children, it sometimes works out that way. So, I never experienced being a father. Towards the end of his life, my Dad used to enjoy sitting around with me, drinking coffee, and telling of his exploits in WW2 Europe. He could turn every topic into a WW2 story. People used to remark Dad's stories were true. He never varied or embellished them.

I, too, wish I could play one more round with Dad.

[Rdjr]

Great thread, I enjoyed reading it. God bless!

[Musky]

One of my daughter's first junior tournaments was a Pepsi par 3 at that very course. It's six years later and two days ago she received two D1 offers. I am so thankful for all the time we've spent together on the golf course. Gary D'Amato is a fine golf/sports writer. I'm glad he got that round with his dad.

[Reasonability]

Thanks for sharing. He was and still is undoubtedly a fine man. Lost my dad and golf mentor when I was a teenager, so I can promise you the story you shared did not -- and never will end on the 9th tee that day. It will live on.

[TAMtalizied]

Thank you for sharing!!

[Ifelloffladder]

par 3 is where it all began for me. that's where my father took me to get me started, and to have to take him to a par 3 would be the final chapter of golfing with dad. good article.

[larrybud]

My dad is 85 and is still playing. He can't play much more than the local 2900 yard flat muni because he doesn't move like he used to (should have kept smoking to keep that weight off!), but we're playing in the GAM Father/Son tournament this coming Monday. It's his Father's day gift, and we've played in the last 4. Actually won gross in our flight one year (the "century" division, where both ages of father & son are >=100). I don't know if it's a passive brag to talk about an 83 you shot, but I don't care! (it's a modified alternate shot)

They should make a "Super Century" flight for us, as we total 130 years old now, but we might be the only team in it. Had to sorta talk him into this one, as he said "well, I can't play like I used to". I told him I didn't care, it's fun to get out and play in a tournament together, even if we shoot 100 (which we might).