Yesterday I went through an exercise that I almost dread. Playing in a golf scramble. I thought I had my way out in that I am left handed and, I hadn't brought my left handed clubs to New York yet. I have to thank Mike Grey in that he found some in the clutch, ensuring I wouldn't be left out.
It brought back many memories in that it was in a setting that was much like one I had in my childhood. My dear mom used to put me into a golf league when I was a young boy living in Grayling, Michigan. I think my brother Kevin and I invented the "scramble". At least we tended to play it under similar rules. The course was in a small town in the northern part of Michigan what is known as the "Lower Peninsula". Yesterday's scramble was in the rural wooded confines in the Finger Lake region in a town called Trumansburg.
Summers started late in Grayling so, the early mornings were cool with much dew in the grass. We would begin our jaunt of nine holes knowing we would lose the vast majority of our balls by the end of the eighth fairway and be cold with sopping wet feet. There was also a good chance we would have been chastized by the ranger for spending too much time hunting for turtles and looking for golf balls (golf ball hunting far exceeded easter egg hunting in being a thrill). We also endured snobbish humor by a few of the upper crust kids.
I was certainly more into the semi fighting wrestling matches I would have with my brother Kevin in being an engaging challenge over walking the course with him. Fortunately for me, Kevin wouldn't beat the crap out of me, it was more like a Chinese torture session. Slow, methodical and time seemed to stand still. Our sessions would end with me somewhat humiliated with my cheeks pinched, nuggied up and a pink belly. I thought it was worse than what it was at the time. I did daydream about the moment I would be able to hold him down and pinch his cheeks. Little did I know at the time this ability to get into the mind's eye was what would propel me forward as a wrestler and in my life.
So, to get back to the story at hand. In my foursome I had my son Gabe, a nutritionist named Mike and a retired wrestling, football, boxing coach (Golf Coach too) and gym teacher named, I'll call him John for sake of privacy.
John is 71 years old but looks like and moves around like he is not a day over 50. John being a golf coach was really awesome in that Gabe and I learned a lot from him. I learned more from him about the mechanics of golf than I did in two summers in the wet, cold and mosquito infested mornings in Crawford County. Well before the end of the 5 hour time commitment to embrace the 18 hole journey he had us hitting some pretty good balls and, we somehow managed not to lose all of our golf balls. Probably needless to say, our expectations were very low but, it was an amusing victory for me.
I had the good fortune to hang with John as we got into the clubhouse. We talked a little about our families. He has 23 grand kids and three great grand children which is hard for me to fathom in that he looks like he could go out and chop wood all day. What was more interesting to me was his perspective about developing boys into the men they could become and his life's work in this capacity.
John shared with me some of the coaching legends he looked up to and some stories of the men that inspired him at critical junctures in his life. We talked about some of the young men he mentored that came from some really unsupported backgrounds and how proud he was of them as they had found their way in life.
What I got from John was this: He loved his boys deeply. He made sure that they new that he cared for them. John also, had a bottom line. He said that the fact that he did love them to prove it, required that he had a bottom line and, sometimes he had to call out these fellas on how they were going about their business in their life. This was key to have the guts to have a young person not like him as well as the young person's parents many times.
He also shared with me how concerned he is for today's youth in that, he comes across parents more than ever that don't take personal responsibility for the development of their children into becoming the kind of adults our society can count on. He went on to tell me that many of the parents of today enable the poor decisions of their children and continue the insidious growth of entitlement. More people than ever don't take personal responsibility to add more than they take and that begins in the home.
The conversation was more of me listening and learning. What could I say? Here was a man who had lived and built his life with his family several generations deep still around him and held the respect of his peers. He made total sense.
Finally, it was time to go. He closed with: "There is hope" We have wrestling. The finest tool in the world to teach boys how to be good men. There are weight classes so, it is a sport for boys of all sizes, not just for super sized or super fast boys.
For me it was: "John, we have to get together again sometime". For something I was trying to find a way out of turned out to be a gem. John may help me take my golf game to the next level.
Become a Grappler Gold member and get access to premium Grappler articles and videos. Now only $12.99/month!