June 16, 2008

Swashbuckling Golfers

We were away for the weekend with my husband at a conference. Sunday was to be spent by the pool to leave in time to get home for Father’s Day dinner with his Dad and brother’s family.

My boys are currently taking a two week golf camp that got them a Junior membership to a local golf course for the summer, one that happens to be in my neighborhood, and one we would never ordinarily get to use. Better still… they get to golf for free whenever they want through the end of summer and my husband can golf with them for… a nominal fee.

I got the great idea that we should see if they had any tee times in the afternoon, and we should zip home if so, rent two carts and have the boys golf with their Dad. Everyone thought this was a GREAT idea!

Father’s Day golfing with his boys. Cue sappy music.

So we ate breakfast and made our way home, they changed into golfing attire, and checked in with the starter… where I was absolutely stunned to find out that they charged my husband $11 for 9 holes and we didn’t get charged for carts and we were the only people on the course.

It could have been because it was 2:30 and most everyone was finished. Or it could have been people golfed early to celebrate Father’s Day. Or it could have been everyone got the hell off the course because it was 100 degrees.

Or all of the above.

But it was perfect, although way too frickin’ hot, as I drove two boys and he drove one and we attempted to play the front nine, we being them playing, me watching and adding moral support, as there seems to be a lot of that needed in golf.

Unless of course you’re Tiger Woods.

And we’re not. Or they’re not. Bones and Mr. T had yet to actually play on a real golf course. This was to be their first time… with their Dad on Father’s Day. Cue more sappy music. At camp, the weather has been awful in the afternoons so they’ve been practicing on the driving range, pitching, and putting and whatever else you do on a golf course.

And this is what I’ve deduced.

Mr. T is truly a natural athlete and will have no problems with the sport if he just practices and sticks with it.

Ringo has a naturalness about him PLUS he’s fun to golf with. He doesn’t take it too seriously. I had those little club cover things on my hands acting like they were puppets. He calls me ‘The Puppet Master’ now.

Obviously I don’t take it too seriously either, although I know the etiquette and do not talk when I’m not supposed to.

Bones.

Bones.

Well. Hmm. It seems that one day last week one of the golf instructors told him he needed golf shoes as he slid too much. We told him he didn’t need them and wouldn’t get them.

Please.

And I figured, how much could the kid slide? What’s up with that?

Right.

This is Bones on the Golf Course, he is big energy… golfing with him, he bounds out of the cart before the cart is fully stopped, landing like a swashbuckler swinging his club like a sword fighting off invisible swordsman, or hitting at swarms of gnats, before finally taking himself to the tee and doing what I call his routine.

It is like watching a combination of Charlie Chaplin and Jim Carrey. He gets in stance, and tap tap taps each foot. Stance again, jump. Stance, tap left, tap right, stand up, stance, jump, tap. SWIIIING!

Holy crap. The kid cannot stand still long enough to hit a golf ball.

No wonder he slides.

But as TGOO pointed out to me, for Bones, it is always about the costume. For those of you who have been reading me these past four years, you remember how he loves to wear costumes.

One Halloween, we had five costumes in the car. He’d change between houses. (We had extra costumes because he was ‘into’ them. No, I didn’t spend all that cash on Halloween. Actually, they were hooded towels that had been sewn to be different things like a bee or a ladybug. He just kept changing hooded towels.)

Then he’d wear a costume twice a week to preschool. I had better things to fight over then whether he was going as Hulk to school.

Then there was the fit he threw when he was to start Kindergarten at the local Parish school all my boys go to, because, he ‘hated those costumes they wear’. I said, “Umm, you mean the uniform?”

So that is what golf is about. He loves to be in his golf clothes. In his head he is big as day. I’ve told him no golf shoes. I’m not spending the big bucks on golf shoes when the kid has just started the game and right now only wants to tee up and drive.

Forget the irons and putters and hitting all over the course to get to the hole. He only wants to see how far he can hit it.

And he wants those shoes. It’s about the costume.

We made it to Hole 6. It was hotter than three hells and Bones was done. We’d maxed his attention span and there was no more swashbuckling to be had. On Hole 5 he had declared when his line drive went 10 feet, “I hate this!” and he threw his club on the ground.

Oh. Big mistake. This is a gentleman’s game and there are no temper tantrums. I set him straight and he went to his Dad’s cart to sulk.

I thought, “That’s it. We may have lost him to the game…”

But we’re talking about Bones.

Back at Hole 6, with Bones decidedly sitting out the rest in my husband's cart, my husband, who had been playing a pretty good game, teed up, hit the ball, nice long drive… PLINK! Right into the water. He stood there for a moment, then looked at me and quietly said, “I don’t know why I keep playing this game. I suck at this…”

To which a little blonde head was seen to immediately snap to attention, turn to his Dad, and an animated voice was heard to say, “Really?! Can I have your cleats?!”

Because you know… its all about the costume.

One day I will get the nerve to video Bones in action and post it. I get skittish about that stuff, but sometimes when I see him in action I think to myself, “There needs to be a camera here. We’re missing the video…”

Oh and after Hole 6, against the rules, we drove the carts to the house, got water, drove through our back yard, played a hole near our home and then called it a day.

I can’t imagine Bones playing 9 holes. Let alone 18. Ever. It’ll need more than a costume… he’ll need lots of snacks… and pirates and gnats to fight.

Most definitely.

Posted by Boudicca at June 16, 2008 09:56 PM | TrackBack
Comments

It's a costume thing? LOL! I can see that!
Kind of like our youngest, who is very into poker right now. He has so far managed to get himself some clay poker chips (the plastic ones weren't "real" enough for his liking),and a card table, and has begun collecting decks of cards. And when we sit down to play poker, he has to wear his sunglasses.

Posted by: PeggyU at June 16, 2008 11:52 PM

I would argue that it's not so much about the costume - at least with the golfing thing - as much as it is about being authentic.

:-)

Posted by: Kris, in New England at June 17, 2008 09:16 AM

just tell him that those cleats ain't no good for stomping ants..plain flat soled shoes do better

Posted by: GUYK at June 17, 2008 09:17 AM

Ok I know who to take golfing with me... Bones. Between the trees, the car, the dog, the squirrel and the bird... he would love watching all the things I can hit when I'm golfing. We could make a game of it. ;-) He'll have to wear different costumes to go find my balls and chase off the appropriate animal. And definitely flat shoes to stomp around in after all this stuff... cleats just wouldn't do.

Posted by: vw bug at June 17, 2008 10:31 AM

I remember when my boy got the golf bug... His little blue eyed tow head talked me into payin' for half his set of clubs if he earned the other half. He's a left handed golfer so I couldn't just pass mine along and get a new set.

Every uncle, aunt, grandparent that parked their car in my driveway during that time got their car washed whether they wanted it or not. He was a determined little fella the time.

He wound up earning his half, and his half again. Guess what? He decided he'd stick me with payin' for half of a set of clubs that were twice as much as what he wanted to start with. Kid's do the damnedest things.

I didn't like it, but it didn't kill me to pay up twice what I though I was gonna have to. How can you not reward hard work, determination, and persistance? Oh, he likes to dress the part too! He primps more than my daughter does.

Bones... on a YouTube near you. ;)

PS: Bou, don't stand behind him when he swings. I could go on and on about father/son golf, but ... I won't right now.

Posted by: RedNeck at June 18, 2008 10:24 AM

Hubby is out golfing today - I went with on Monday. For him it's all about the cussing!! Under his breath, of course. It *is* a gentleman's game after all...

Sound like you guys are in for a great summer of golf! :)

Posted by: Richmond at June 18, 2008 11:12 AM