I can remember being just a wee pup, my Dad (No, this caveman’s not an immaculate conception. Shocking, I know!) gave me my first golf club. Sure it was just a bent stick, probably comparable to one of those big red plastic golf clubs kids get now-a-days, and sure I went around smacking rocks, bugs and just about everything I found in the cave. But I loved it.
A few years later, when I had calmed down just a stint. He gave me my first real metal driver. I was still barely taller than this medal rod, but I will always remember the days we spent together as he taught me how to properly swing this golf ball killing machine. That is why Sunday golf with my Dad has been and always will be my favorite memories of him.
What is your favorite golfin’ memory of your Dad?