I Am A Golf Club At The Age Of 9

896 WordsAug 27, 20154 Pages
I was handed a golf club at the age of 9. For me, golfing was something I was raised into. It’s easy to say that my love for golf started back in third grade and just continued to grow. Things are rarely that easy. Learning to love golf for the right reasons was something I finally learned how to do just this last year. It was a long journey but it was worth it. My trek started back in my first lessons. I took them at the local golf course in the next town over, a town known for having a passion for golf. The lessons started as fine as they could have for a third grader. But unlike me, all the other students in my age group knew what they were doing and knew how to do it well. Learning how to golf is only as good as the coach. The coaches I had knew what they were doing and expected us to as well. One particularly clear memory was of the golf tournament midway through practices. The lady keeping score was old and taciturn with a look that told us that she had seen too much. In other words, intimidating. They told us to call her “Mrs. P.” We had finished playing four holes, and I had already learned the weakest point in my game: keeping score. The fifth hole started as each of my others did, which was badly. I swung the club, and ‘plop’! The ball was in the creek running parallel with the hole. “Well, try again!” Again the ball landed in the running water with a dismal splash. Once more. At last, a ball avoided the creek and landed in the fairway. My group finished
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