All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
Gone Golfing
My grandparents live in Florida as do many other retired people. Both have retired from their fields of work and are still very happily married. They have lived in Florida since 2005 and have developed several relationships and hobbies in the area. My grandfather has developed a love of playing golf at a nearby golf club called “Indian Bayou”. Most of the staff at the club know my grandfather’s preferences and refer to him as “Mr. Brambley”. Whether he is playing in a tournament or just playing with his friends, he usually visits the club at least 3 days a week. He even keeps spare golf shoes in the trunk of his car!
During my early childhood, my grandfather taught me and my cousins how to hold and swing a golf club. Eventually, he bought us all a set of clubs and took us to the Indian Bayou driving range to take a few swings at a ball. My cousins’ interests quickly shifted from the sport to the golf carts driving by and insisted on driving the carts. Eventually he took us all for a ride in the golf carts, letting us all sit on his lap and steer at certain points in the ride. My cousins continued to go to the range with my grandfather but it quickly became clear that they went with mainly golf carts in mind. I however, continued to go to the club with my grandfather.
One summer, when I was about 8 years old, I actually went to a golf camp at the Indian Bayou. Our teacher, Erin, was likely in his late 20s or early 30s and taught us things like how to have better posture when we swing, what clubs to use and when, and how to follow through with our swings. Erin would take us out on the course to play actual game of golf with a provided prize for the final winner. He ended up giving us all spongebob golf balls whether we won our games or not. After our games, we would go to the restaurant inside the club and get any drinks we wanted while we waited for our families to come pick us up.
When I turned 10, my parents allowed me to go to florida with my grandparents and stay there by myself. On Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, me and my grandfather would grab breakfast at Panera and then make our way to the Indian Bayou driving range to swing at a few balls. Sometimes, my grandfather would go play golf with his friends and allowed me to be his caddy which meant that I drove the golf cart and handed him the clubs that he needed. My grandfather would usually win the games he played and would take me to the restaurant afterwards where I would usually catch a glimpse of Erin. I would almost always get a grilled cheese sandwich, much like any other restaurant I went to. On the way home from the course, we would sometimes go to McDonalds and both get strawberry milkshakes which always upset my grandmother. For the next few years, I stayed a week with my grandparents during the summer and continued this routine every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. The year of my 13th birthday, I spent my birthday week with my grandparents. My birthday was on a Saturday which meant that we would be going golfing on my birthday! We grabbed our usual Panera breakfast and when we arrived at the club, it was no different than any other visit. A staff member drove up and greeted my grandfather with the usual “Hey Mr. Brambley!”. The staff member already had my grandfather’s clubs on the back of the cart he was driving, just like normal. Then my grandfather told him that it was my birthday and just like that, the whole staff knew it was my birthday. We walked into the store where we were immediately greeted by Erin. I got a few happy birthdays from Erin and some surrounding staff members and then we were on our way. As usual, we went to the driving range, and then my grandfather went to play a game with his friends while I caddied which if I’m being honest, was my favorite part. All of my grandfather’s friends wished me a happy birthday and when we were done, we grabbed the usual lunch, and went home.
Now, I dont go and stay with my grandparents during the summer anymore. I no longer go to driving ranges or play any games of golf. I’m not even good at mini golf! Granted, I was never very good at mini golf. When I do see my grandfather, we often go play mini golf (which he always wins). These experiences taught me to love and respect the sport of golf and take it seriously unlike the majority of people who believe that golf is a sport only for the elderly with no real end goal.
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 0 comments.