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Golf holds the distinction of being one of just a few sports, fathers and sons can share for a very long time. Basketball, baseball, football, soccer and all of the other major sports can be played with much competitiveness only for a few years. Soon though, the onset of age, ailing backs, rubbery knees, failing eyesites would relegate the best of players to the bench, often, just when their sons start mastering the sports themselves. In fact, how many father and son tandems have played together professionally for these major sports? Very few if at all.
Golf, allows fathers and sons to play together even at the highest levels. Jay Haas, Jack Nicklaus, Craig Stadler have played with their kids in the PGA. How much higher can you go than that?
At the level of us lowly duffers, golf too affords us the chance to play with our fathers for a long time. In fact golf may be the avenue for fathers and sons to reconnect, to find each other, to get to know each other not merely as an elder to a young’un but as equals, as men.
When I took up the game in 1994 I had two primary reasons for doing so. One, I wanted to learn the game which has intrigued me for so long. I was enamored by its beauty, its closeness to nature, its simplicity and the fact that it cannot be conquered. Two, I wanted something I can share with my dad. By that time I was in 4th year law school, about to graduate and embark on life. I realized that at that time I did not really have anything I shared with my dad. Sure he was there to help with school, to offer advise on life, to discuss political realities with. But we really did not have bonding moments. We did not go camping together. In out of town trips we usually end up doing different things. He never really coached me in any sport or even taught me how to drive. We really had nothing just ours. That is, until golf.
I remember that faithful day when I asked my dad to accompany me to the driving range at Royal Maru. I just checked it out and planned to learn the game there. For a teacher I asked my dad for help. He looked at me, a little perplexed, confused, but also with some excitement. I do not think he expected me to spring this on him but he readily agreed. I dusted off his old bag and we rode in silence to the driving range, not knowing what we can talk about. He gave me some tips and away we swung. The months that followed saw us spending more time together in the range, pounding balls side by side mostly in silence. He soon bought me a set of clubs and before long he took me to my first foray on the fairways of Capitol Hills Golf Club. Walking together over 4 hours covering 7 kilometers, we ended up talking about … stuff … just stuff. As we played more often we spoke more, and slowly I grew to understand my dad even more. We have never been mushy in my family, often leaving unsaid feelings of love for each other. Being brought up as men, we were never encouraged to profess our feelings openly. But playing together, allowed us to just spend time together, knowing that underlying the time spent is the love of a father and a son. On the course, we spoke about everything and anything. He would ask about work, my wife, my life and I would pick his brains for ideas, advise and clues on how to deal with life’s many hazards. Before long my brothers joined us and soon we were playing as a family. Since getting married and moving out, I do not play with dad as regularly anymore. At most we play once a year. But those days we spent together in the fairways of Capitol Hills established a foundation that is now deeper and more solid.
Truly, I a thankful for an abundance of blessings because the Lord has given me a second opportunity to use golf to get close to another dad, my father-in-law. Being a member of the military, he was stern, succinct in speech, not readily approachable. It took me a long time to call him dad with ease, as I would then often catch myself calling him ‘sir’ instead. He took up golf around 2000. He was brought into a company where all the top executives played golf and so he was intrigued by it. When I found out he had taken to the game I found my way of getting close to him. Just like with my dad, we spent some time in the range. He would ask me for some tips and offer to me tips he had learned on his own. Before long we started playing together. By the mid-2000s it would not be unusual for him to call me on a saturday and ask for us to meet at Kagitingan for a 7 o’clock tee off. He always asked, “o, are you free tomorrow?” Immediately I knew what he was referring to and I would eagerly say yes. We would then play a round together, ribbing each other, talking trash, sharing secrets, telling ribald jokes, just men being men. His veneer of sternness was shed and I got to know him as a man who loved his family first and foremost, who stood by his commitments with fervor, who performed his duties unflinchingly and who loved golf with a passion. He has passed on and I do miss our games together. I have played Kagitingan only a few times since his passing, as the sight of the course without him still gets me a little dusty. Thanks to golf though I was given a chance to know him before he started his round in the great course in the sky.
I now have a son and a daughter. He is one, she is three and I do not expect them to know golf until much later in their young lives. I do hope though that they will allow golf to draw us closer together as I did with my dads. I cannot wait for us to tee it up side by side, cajoling each other for dubbing shots or for out-driving the other. I cannot wait to spend time with them under shades of trees, rolling clouds, heavy rains, with the breeze at our backs and the sun on our skins. I cannot wait for our conversations as well as the silence on the course; encouragements of ‘good shot, anak’ and ‘nice try’. The gift of golf will allow for this and for this I say thank you.
To the golfing fathers out there, happy fathers day.
The Duffer 