Ever since I started playing golf last summer, I've been trying to get my dad to hit the links with me. He used to play, but hadn't picked up his clubs in years. On top of that, last December he had knee replacement surgery and he's still a little iffy on his other knee. So, he was reluctant to commit to the full swing over that many holes. I got him to go to the range a couple weeks ago and he was able to swing without pain, so I finally badgered him enough to go to Lost Brook, which is the closest course, and play a half-round. What I didn't see happening was that my father is a damn good putter.
We got a cart and headed out. While my dad might have had some reservations about the full swing he would need to get from tee to green, once he was on the putting surface he was killing me. I'm three putting from 10 feet, he's nailing 25 footers. Also, as it turns out his knee was also a bit of an advantage. Because he was hesitant to put a full-body swing behind his drives he swung with little-to-no movement below the waist. The result was less power, but more accuracy. So while he may have only been hitting it 140 yards and I may have been hitting it 160 yards, he was in the fairway while I was in the woods. I knew he was having a good time (winning will do that) because as we were on the 16th tee my dad said, "Wait, we only have three holes left? This round is flying by."
I'm not going to pretend that this was a duel on par with Watson vs. Nicklaus from Turnberry, but it was close. In the end my erratic driving and sub-par putting was not enough to save me and my dad ended his 20-year golf retirement with a 49-52 victory. Beaten by a guy who hadn't swung a club in two decades... yeah, that should to wonders for my ego.
We got a cart and headed out. While my dad might have had some reservations about the full swing he would need to get from tee to green, once he was on the putting surface he was killing me. I'm three putting from 10 feet, he's nailing 25 footers. Also, as it turns out his knee was also a bit of an advantage. Because he was hesitant to put a full-body swing behind his drives he swung with little-to-no movement below the waist. The result was less power, but more accuracy. So while he may have only been hitting it 140 yards and I may have been hitting it 160 yards, he was in the fairway while I was in the woods. I knew he was having a good time (winning will do that) because as we were on the 16th tee my dad said, "Wait, we only have three holes left? This round is flying by."
I'm not going to pretend that this was a duel on par with Watson vs. Nicklaus from Turnberry, but it was close. In the end my erratic driving and sub-par putting was not enough to save me and my dad ended his 20-year golf retirement with a 49-52 victory. Beaten by a guy who hadn't swung a club in two decades... yeah, that should to wonders for my ego.
