Golf was an important link between me and my dad. Dad taught me the game. We played a lot of golf together. We talked about golf all the time. And, it brought us together at the end.
My father loved the game of golf and he passed that love onto his son. I think I have always played the game. Dad never gave me lessons per se, but I probably grew up imitating his swing. Unfortunately, when I look at my swing, in the shadow of a late afternoon, I see my father’s swing. Some would say it is the “Kenny Curse”.
When I was in high school, dad was a college professor and worked irregular hours. He would pick me up from school and we would play golf at the local municipal golf course. In high school, I wasn’t a bad player. I caddied and played on my high school golf team. For years, dad kept beating me, even though I was a better player. Dad used to call me a “Tower of Jello” long before I worked for Kraft. Maybe he was training me, the way Tiger’s father taught him, or not.
In the mid 1980’s Susan and I moved to California with my job. One of my fondest golf memories was playing the famed Pebble Beach Golf course with my dad. I will never forget standing next to him from the 8th fairway and him saying: “What I thrill it was watching your ball disappear into the ocean” after he sliced his second shot.
The 8th hole at Pebble Beach where dad had the “thrill”
For years we talked about my second shot on 18. I drew a one iron under and around the famed pine in the middle of the fairway. (Note: I carried a one iron in my bag for years. I couldn’t hit it, but it looked good in the bag) Dad felt pretty good about his round saying his score of 99 was better than a dollar a shot that he paid for, the then, $100 greens fee.
In our later years, as my job took me around the country, we would always get together over the phone on Sunday evenings. Invariably, we would talk about the golf we had watched that afternoon.
Golf brought us together in the end. My dad died on Father’s day in 1995. It was the day that Corey Pavin won the US Open at Shinnecock Hills. We were living in Memphis TN at the time and Mom and Dad lived in Westhampton NY, 15 miles from Shinnecock. I was on my way to Brazil for work. My plan was to visit mom and dad. Spend a day at the Open and then fly from JFK to Rio. I just happened to be there when dad’s health took a horrible turn for the worst. We got to spend his final hours together, and what did we talk about, golf. We went through that special round at Pebble Beach, hole by hole shot by shot. Golf kept us together.
Happy Father’s Day dad
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