I’m not much of a golfer. I never did understand the attraction of hitting a little white ball around and then, as is usually my case, looking for it in the bushes. I never gave the sport a chance when I was young and had a chance to get into it. I guess patience comes with age and I’m now beginning to appreciate what people see in the sport. The singular focus, you and the terrain, and the satisfaction when you do make good contact, that ping of the club against that little white ball.
There’s a public golf course about a half mile from our house and on Saturday my neighbor was taking his boys over to whack a bucket of balls at the range. Tyler and I tagged along (99 balls cost you $8) and Izumi let me borrow her clubs (she’s got a cute, pink driver that’s
real fun to use). It was Tyler’s first time at a range and he did pretty well. He did lament that there were, “no windmills” like the mini-golf place down on the Santa Cruz boardwalk but, nonetheless, he enjoyed himself.
I also go a few good shots out there and, after hearing a round of 18 holes is only $25 for Alameda residents, think I may try to get myself out there one of these days. They give free lessons to kids on the weekends and it looked like Tyler had a thing for this club and ball thing so maybe we’ll get him out there as well!
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