For Father’s Day, my boy gave a few bucks and told me to go hit some golf balls. I have been talking about getting back on the links again after a nearly four-year hiatus thanks to a bad back, but I haven’t gotten around to it yet. I went out and bought the back brace like I was told to do by my various doctors, and it sat in my office for weeks until Sunday when the boy inspired me to go out and use the brace.

It felt good to hit a golf ball again, and as I contemplated going out to play nine holes that day I was reminded of why I enjoy golf so much in the first place. Golf holds the same attraction for me that the drive-in does, although golf is not nearly as addicting as the drive-in movies are. When I am golfing, the rest of the world disappears and it is just me and the course. I am out in the great outdoors chasing a little white ball, and then hitting it with a crooked stick. Then when I find it, I hit it again. George Carlin described golf that way, and I guess he was right.

But unless you have tried the game, you can never appreciate its therapeutic value. People who do not play golf can look at golf as an elitist sport that only arrogant people play. While I am certain that I am not the only arrogant person that plays golf, I can assure you that some of the nicest people I know enjoy a round once in a while. Wasting a day on golf is almost like wasting a day fishing, with the difference being that there is something to do when you waste a day playing golf. It is difficult to find someone fast asleep on a golf course.

Watching that ball leave your club after contact is pretty magical. It is even more magical when the ball goes anywhere remotely close to where you wanted it to go. It is a lot less magical when the ball decides to do it own thing. But either way it is a great way to spend a day, and I am ecstatic to realize that I am able to start playing again after Sunday.

I have to admit that I was expecting to wake up in serious pain Monday morning from an hour at the driving range, but aside from the usual excruciating pain I feel due to the damage in my back I felt pretty good. Let’s put it this way, golf did not add any new pain that I am unfamiliar with so that means it’s a go. 

So that is how I spent my Father’s Day. I spent it reconnecting with one of the summer activities I really enjoy, thanks to the insistence of my son. It was strange when the boy handed me a card with cash in it, but when he explained why he gave me cash I knew I would be hitting golf balls soon. He’s a quiet kid, but he knows what he is doing. I wish I could say he is smart like the old man, but he is probably a good reader of people thanks to his mother. I had nothing to do with it.

For Father’s Day my boy gave me back my love of golf, which is something I had feared I had lost. But after a few swings of the club, I remembered what I had been missing out on and I intend to hit the links very soon.

I hope all the fathers out there had a great Father’s Day, and I hope your kids were able to help you get back a little piece of your life like mine did for me. I’m starting to understand why my mom was looking forward to grandchildren so much. After a while, the kids just don’t hang around like they used to and you need something to take their place. Not that I am in a hurry for grandchildren, we have a couple of decades before we worry about that. But my boy is a young man now that respects his parents, but is living his own life. That is both a moment of pride, and a moment of sad realization that those moments you cherished when they were young are only memories now. That is until the next generation arrives, which he knows I am in no hurry for whatsoever. Not yet, at least.

George N. Root III is a Lockport resident. His columns appear every Wednesday. Send comments to georgeroot@verizon.net.