My wife and I are celebrating our 14th wedding anniversary this weekend, so I opted to not work on a new essay this weekend.
I’m reposting this piece that I wrote in the summer of 2022 about lessons I learned from my daughter on the golf course.
These ideas are worth revisiting now, with all that is going on in the world.
Hobbies are essential, in my opinion.
One of my rules for Midlife Adventures is to Cultivate and enjoy a hobby, especially one that might be difficult.
Particularly ones that take us outside and require some physical exertion. Ideally, that hobby is something that we can do well into the golden years of life, so scratch bull riding or MMA off your list. Maybe for you it’s fly fishing, or pickleball, or hiking.
That’s why I play golf. It’s certainly difficult. I could probably write several thousand words in celebration of playing golf (the benefits come from playing the game, not watching it on TV, though I do enjoy that as well). I will spare you that polemic today.
I will say this: I came to golf relatively late in life and I have no illusions about my game. However, I have great aspirations to be playing rounds of golf with my children when they are adults. Perhaps, God will even bless me with rounds of golf with my children AND my grandchildren.
For all the other aspirations I have for my golf game — travel to play historic links courses, the great man-vs-self and man-vs-nature struggle — I hope playing golf will be something I can do with my kids for many, many years to come.
This summer I’ve been fortunate to spend some special Daddy-Daughter time with my 10-year-old on the golf course.
She and her brother both go to a weekly golf camp over the summer at the course near our house, something they’ve done for several years. This summer, she also wanted to go to the weekend golf camp at her grandparent’s golf club in the mountains.
Her brother had other activities scheduled, so she and I went up and had a weekend of golf, pizza, and Premier League soccer (well, maybe that was mostly me shouting about my Spurs winning). We played a couple of rounds together on the short, par-3 course and took evening walks. It was great.
The whole family came back up this week and she and I played the front 9 holes on one of the “grown-up” course, while her brother took a WW2 class online.
Would I have preferred to play the whole 18? Maybe.
Did I learn a few important life lessons along the way? Absolutely.
The score card doesn’t record the amount of fun. A signifigant part of my journey in golf over the last few years has been about improving my own game - the man-vs-self struggle. Lowering my score is a tangible meteric for this progression. But just like your fantasy football team, no one else really cares what you shoot. This outing out on the course wasn’t about me, or my “golf journey", it was about quality time together.
(Shout out to my friend Scott - whom I’ve known for 20+ years and with whom I play golf 2-3 times a month - who at least pretends to enjoy hearing about my golf scores.)
Fun is what you make it, so make it fun. Obvisouly, my daughter doesn’t hit the ball as far as I do, even using different tee boxes.
So we invented a new team golf game, we’re calling it the Dad Scramble. The kids learned about the “scramble” tournament format this summer. Everyone hits a ball, but you only play your next shot from the best ball of your group. This is a common format for lower-stakes charity tournaments and golf outings with players of various skill levels. It keeps the scores low, and the players moving around the course.
After one hole with me playing from the men’s tees and my 10 year-old daughter playing from the still-very-long women’s tees, she decided that Dad should hit the drives from the tee box, and then we’d do a family scramble from my first shot (and occasionally my 2nd, looking at you par 5’s). Once on the green, she would putt first each attempt. And so, the Dad Scramble was born.
She enjoyed hopping out of the cart in the fairway (humble brag, hit 7 of 9), and hit a ball or two under low-stress, high fun conditions. We scored few a pars and a few bogeys and had a grand old time. We Dad Scrambled some holes, and I solo played a few while she learned to use the ranger finder.
Relax, Dad. Because I’ve focused my golf journey around personal improvement, a bad shot or two puts me in a less-than-jovial mood.
Doing physically coordinated things when you’re tense doesn’t lead to great results either, so we’re in a nasty feedback loop.
When she hits a shot, there’s not faffing around. She walks up, hits the ball, and regardless of the outcome does a cartwheel or a crazy dance and hops back in the golf cart. She says the fairway grass is softer on her hands than the sidewalk, so apparently cartwheels are a must. No matter how far - or how short - the ball goes, the post-shot routine is the same: glorious indifference to the outcome, and pure enjoyment of the moment.
She unconsiouly understands we only control the process and our attitude, not the outcome. So, relax, Dad.
The conversation along the way is priceless. There’s a lot of getting from point A to point B in golf. Lots of time walking or riding in the golf cart between shots and between holes. This down time provides the most wonderful opportunities for un-forced conversation.
French impressionist composer Claude Debussy (and American jazz legend Miles Davis) said that music is the space between the notes. Maybe the essence of golf is the space between the shots. The opportunity to strengthen relationships, to bond, to communicate, to enjoy each others company without feeling forced or manufactured.
We didn’t really discuss anything of deep consequence, but I learned about the various attributes of building materials in the game Minecraft, and we discussed what we both thought made the views beautiful, and which color golf ball she prefers (currently, the neon yellow balls, and certainly not pink ones anymore: ‘eww, they’re sus’).
The best part of the round might have been the time spent together, between the shots. Ordinary moments together, that will build and strengthen our relationship for years to come.
With my kids, I think it is important to be a high average hitter. To use a baseball analogy, I want to hit lots and lots of double and singles, moving the runners around the bases and scoring runs. I think that’s better than trying to hit home runs every time but striking out 2 out of 3 at bats.
They’ll remember the feeling of the time together, more than they might remember the actual time. That’s fine, they’ll have cemented core feelings of connection, security, fun, and love. You’ve got to put the ball in play to see what magic might happen in the ordinary moments.
The most important lesson I learned from my daughter on the golf course was to remember to enjoy and cherish the ordinary moments together.