A Father’s Day follow-up

18 Jun

Please indulge me once again as I post a personal blog, a short follow-up to today’s Father’s Day blog.

Dad watches one of his shots.

In it, I wrote how my siblings and I were able to spend Father’s Day with our dad for the first time in more than 40 years. That alone would have made the weekend great. But this morning it got even better, when I joined 83-year old Dad, my big brother Greg and my little sister Mindy for a round of golf.

The event was the Father/Child Golf Tournament at Genegantslet Golf Course in Greene, NY (the same town which had the Memorial Day parade which I blogged about a few weeks ago).  It was nine holes of pure fun (and aggravation, and frustration, and embarrassment, and abject humiliation.)  It was a captain-and-crew format, which meant that we all played from where the best ball landed on each shot. As a result, everyone was able to contribute to the game, even if we were not always consistent. My Dad actually was one of our best putters, and holed in at least two par putts for us.

We were hoping for par, and ended up coming in two-under. So we considered that a real success.

The Captain and Crew.

Congratulations to John Carlin and the folks at the Genegantslet Golf Course for putting together a very nice little tournament. I particularly thought it was great that, when the awards were given out, they made sure every young child who participated got a small trophy.  It was for “putting up with your dads,” John told them.

And because I know you’re wondering, I did pretty OK, if you don’t count the three balls I put in the water. And the dribblers off the tee that looked like I bowled them down the green.  And my one drive which went, well, almost between my legs so that it landed BEHIND me (see if you can do THAT, Tiger).

Actually, my father was rather impressed by how well I could drive when managed to I hit the ball squarely.  By all rights, though, it shouldn’t have surprised him; after all, he’s the one who taught me how to swing a golf club back in the early 1970s.

Seven-year old twins Rowen and Maeric Barrows with the trophies they won for playing in the tournament. They were so excited. Rowan fist-pumped the air all the way back to his table. And then for several minutes afterwards.

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