Hitting the links

I first fell in love with this sport (game) back in high school.. .when I begged my volleyball coach to take us to the driving range.  It was my never-ending pursuit to "fit in", to be "American", to keep up with the "Jones." I still remember taking the bus with him to the now demolished driving range on 4th and Brannan by 280 - where we ran into Mr. Long - the Vice Principal of our high school.  I had one GOOD drive that day... right in front of my two elders. 

I love this sport because it takes discipline.  It takes a lot (A LOT) of practice to hone your skills.  It's both a mental and physical game.  And alas... it's ultimately a game against yourself.

I hate this sport because it's expensive.  The equipment is pricey.  I inherited my set of clubs from a friend who left the states and never came back.  A bucket of balls at the driving range is $10-15.  The cheapest green fees are around $20.... a cart is another $20.  

For all the right reasons to play... there was an equally opposite reason to not play.  So 10+ years ago... when I had two young kids... I stopped.  But the person who sent me into retirement, ironically, pulled me out of retirement. Must've been at least 10 years since I last played golf when I played the front 9 with colleagues at work. 10+ years later... I get to hit the links and play 9-hole with Siu Wah, his best friend and his dad.  

This post shouldn't be about me.  It's about spending time with my son.  The care-free, goofy, fun-loving, jovial, non-competitive, but ohhh so competitive Sweet Siu Wah.  He absolutely loved every minute of it.  He loves honeing his skills.  He loves the fact that he can get better.  He loves the fact that he is there... with his best friend.  

He's oblivious to course etiquette.  He doesn't know that you can't use a tee on the fairway.  He doesn't know that you only get ONE mulligan.  He doesn't know he's holding up the foursome behind us.  He doesn't know... he doesn't need to know.  

In the midst of all the chaos... I forgot I had the pencil in my hat, so I didn't keep score.  I wish I had.  I wish I asked Ken to take a picture of us.  Father and son.  I wish I had captured that moment in time.  But maybe... just maybe... today... will forever be seared into SW's memories... like that day I had my first drive that day on 4th and Brannan.