One gets used to playing with the same dads. There is a comfort in consistency, even when its a case of ‘better the devil you know’. So I was a bit unnerved to go out this morning with both daddy caddies unknown entities. And when one decided to just “create” a drop-zone in an area on the other side of a very intimidating lake, and the other argued that when a ball is lost you can just put another in the “approximate area” it was lost in ……. well, I shuddered a little.
The morning started, once again, in the dark and pouring rain. We did not warm-up in the drizzle and went to the first tee cold – literally and figuratively. The first few holes illustrated, in all their soggy splendor, how to hit iron shots spectacularly badly. I actually wondered, for the first time in a while, whether he really should be playing this sport because honestly, with all the time and money we spend on golf, he should be able to play a decent iron shot at this point.
The nine hole round was as a rollercoaster ride. On hole 6 he almost hit a 9 iron in for eagle (ended with a par, following a nervous and tentative birdie putt.) . Shot par for 5 holes in all, so ultimately, when it was good it was very, very good; and when it was bad it was horrid.
After the round playing partner’s mom, who had watched in a cart from the cart path, admired how Rob has such a great attitude – “he smiles through it all”. Well, she probably didn’t watch as closely as she could have in the beginning – but he was stoic nonetheless, and that comment made me proud.