Teaching Golf

Bonding moments don’t have to go as planned. Sometimes you bond, just not in the way you intend.

Man in golf swing

Notice Daddy’s straight left arm

My dad, avid golfer, decided at some point in my sixteenth or seventeenth year to teach me how to play golf. Since he had a handicap of about seven, I was all for it. He planned to start with teaching me how to swing at the driving range. Excited about passing on his golf skills to his daughter, he bought me a golf glove and we practiced my hand-over-hand grip at home.

Once on the driving range, we ran into a problem. I was fairly well endowed for a teenage girl. Daddy’s swing (as well as the swing of everyone else he knew) involved keeping his left arm straight. Soon he realized the impossibility of his right-handed, well-developed daughter keeping her left arm straight on a golf swing.

Father and daughter in front of famous st. Andrews golf course.

This is Dad and me at St. Andrews golf course in Scotland. Notice I’m carrying a camera, not a golf-club.

After walking around bent-over with his back to me (read: laughing his butt off, trying and failing to be discreet about it), he looked at me with a relatively straight face and said, “I can’t teach you to play golf. Let’s go home.”

At least I got a golf-glove out of it.

© Laura Hedgecock 2013

Interested in sharing your memories?  My website, Treasure Chest of Memories, gives tips, resources, and a blog about memory sharing.


2 thoughts on “Teaching Golf

  1. Funny. As the soon-to-be father of two girls, it makes me re-think all the supposed gender-neutral activities I plan to participate in with them. 🙂


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