Brick’s Blog

     All golfers have benchmarks in their playing careers. For a junior golfer, it’s the day they get their bag tag. Just like becoming old enough to vote, legally have your first alcohol drink, or drive an automobile, a bag tag at a club signifies you are allowed to be on the course on your own. Can’t take a cart, but you may walk the course whenever allowed - usually after 2 p.m.

     My daughter, Lucy Gordon, got hers on Labor Day, September 3, 2007. Typically, junior golfers need to exhibit a cursory knowledge of the rules, course etiquette, and a proficiency to score under a certain number on any 3 consecutive holes (21 seems to be the number for most clubs) before they receive their tag. I cheated. Well, I didn’t cheat, I probably just "sandbagged" our club’s newest assistant pro. When I asked him Monday what the procedure was for a junior golfer to get their tag, he said he wasn’t sure and then quickly made one for Lucy Gordon. And I am not going to worry about it! The pure glee she had when I put it on her bag will be one of my lasting memories.

     Besides for the immediate future, when she plays, she’ll play with me; and she’ll know her etiquette. Monday, she was already replacing and filling her divots. She meticulously raked every trap where she hit an errant ball. Now, if our other club members were as conscientious! 

     Her ability to score well will come. She had some moments yesterday - at least two moon shot putts of 40 feet that dropped. She also holed out in 3 a couple of  times from within 100 yards. Soon I’ll be writing about that first true par, so stay tuned. 

     Saturday, my daughter and I spent the day at Kingsmill watching the LPGA Michelob Ultra Open. For an aspiring young golfer like my daughter, it couldn’t have been a better day despite  the overcast and somewhat chilly weather. For me, I’d have to rank it as one of my best days, since how often does a dad get to spend the entire day alone and in the company of his teenage daughter?

     My wife has the pleasure of alone time often with our daughter. They shop together. They go to workout together. They go to lunch together. They attend plays together. They even spend time together in each other’s bedrooms laughing and chatting.

     I use to have a special time with my daughter. For years, I had 10-15 minutes alone with her every morning when I drove her to school. Once my son started to drive, I delegated this duty to him. While I was delighted to not have to endure the Collegiate carpool line every morning, I did lament the loss of our time together.

     Now, our time together has been restored; and gratefully increased. Whether it is going to the practice tee, playing a quick nine, or even picking her up from her golf team practice, we once again have that special time together. Thank you, Golf Gods, for blessing me. I promise to quit bitching about my handicap.

     Just promise me one thing, Golf Gods. Make my daughter’s love of the game lasting. When she is grown, married and has children of her own, I’d like to think she’d have time for a round with dear old dad. I’d even settle for nine. 

     Oh, the picture? It’s Paula Creamer. She’s has just signed one of her signature pink Precept for my daughter. How’s that for someone’s first price of golf memorabilia?

     I listed one of my favorite clubs on eBay this a.m. Sniffle, sniffle, weep, weep. Here’s the description for it:

     Shhh….I don’t want my old friend, Baffler, to know that I am betraying him. Just call me, Judas. This really is like getting rid of an old friend. This was my first utility club. The loft is 22 ° which is about a 3 iron, but due to the mass of the head will carry further and really bores through the air. You’ll love it out of the rough. In season, I have a weekly match with an old college buddy of mine; he was delighted when I retired this club. He was tired of getting "baffled."

     I live in Virginia and typically play twice a week from April through October with a range outing between rounds. Usually, I regrip my clubs every season, so this Lamkin grip is in very good shape. Shaft is Cobra Ultralight R-Flex. Club face and sole shows use but in overall good condition.

     I am an avid golfer and take great care of my clubs. This club was relunctantly "retired" in ‘06 when I replaced my existing bag configuration (lowest iron I carry now is a 6) and "Old Baffler" at 22 ° didn’t fit the gaps in my bag, so he was "put out to pasture" in my garage. "Old Baffler" deserves better and longs for the great outdoors and warmth of a summer day. Baff, old buddy, I am sorry, but you know my daughter is now playing and how long I have waited for one of my children to share my love of the game. She needs new clubs. I promise I’ll find you a good home and someone who will rely on you as much I have. Good night, Sweet Prince. 

     As many of you know, I am an avid, but average, golfer. I love the game that Mark Twain described as “a good walk ruined.” So you can imagine how my heart soared last year, when my daughter, Lucy Gordon, expressed an interest in golf and her desire to attempt to make the junior varsity golf team at her school. Since she was a complete novice of the game, I tried to temper her ambition by saying she should be satisfied if she was just allowed to practice with the team until her skills improved. Anyway, I already know that I will not lower my handicap or get the first lucky bounce this year, because the Golf Gods have smiled on me and Lucy Gordon is now a member of her junior varsity team. Was it her consummate skills? No, it was the numbers – 10 available slots and 10 players who tried out, but who cares. I know over the next few months she will vastly improve at golf; and I am grateful.  

You always hear golf promoted as a great character building experience, since it is the only sport where you can call a penalty on yourself; and are expected to do so. What Lucy Gordon does not know yet is that she is about to have the greatest learning experience any soon to be 15 year old young woman could ever have. For the next 2 ½ months, every weekday afternoon she will spend several hours in the company of 9 young men. Now most fathers would cringe at that thought, but I know the advantage to be gained. See, Lucy Gordon will quickly find out that the “male animal” is actually pretty simple. She will find these young men don’t worry about who said what about whom. She’ll learn that guys are just guys and why words like “hey, fellas, watch this” are the most used last words of men. When athletics are involved, men are out to impress other men; and in doing so, they reveal so much about themselves. Whether its arrogance, ego, insecurity, even compassion, it can all be seen when men are playing with a ball.  

If you have ever seen the movie, Diner, than you know the bridegroom, Eddie, wants his fiancée, Elise, to pass a football quiz on the Baltimore Colts before he’ll marry her. Hey, future beaus of Lucy Gordon, if she ever asks you to grab two of your best friends to fill a foursome be mindful it may be more than golf outing.

     Weather permitting, I have a weekly golf match with a fraternity brother of mine. We’re probably going on 10 years of playing weekly - always mid week. A simple $2 Nassau, with $1 trash for greenies, birdies, and sandies. I keep track of the money and the stats for the trash. At year end, usually around November, the money leader gets to claim a trophy; and significantly more important, the bragging rights over the other for the winter layoff. We also have a Tiger Woods’ bobble head, which goes to one who makes the most birdies during the year. Currently, I hold the bobble head from ‘06, while my pal, Ron, has the trophy.

     We refer to our competition, as do many of our mutual friends, as the Las House Classic. Although my buddy, Ronald Alva Cain, Jr., is 5 years my junior and actually a classmate of my younger brother, Walter, we been running mates for 30 years now. As do most males who have been friends that long, you have nicknames for each other. I am the House. Not because I sell them, but because during my second go-round at UVA when I met Ron, the song, Brick House, was huge. 

     How Ron became Las is much more convoluted. I have another fraternity brother and classmate, Jim Farmer. Since Jim and I were pledges together, my misbehaving with and nicknaming of Jim had a 5 year head start on Ron. Sometime in the earlier 80’s, Ron and Jim were dating two girls who were friends and roommates. At this stage in Jim’s life, he was seeing the sun rise on many a weekend morning. Due to Jim’s "always open never closed" lifestyle, I started referring to him as Vegas. Now that Ron was often in Jim’s company, since they were dating roommates, he became Las. Las Vegas, get it. 25 plus years later, Ron is still Las. Jim is now still Chili Vegas and you don’t want to know why the Chili was added. 

     Before I blogged and only when I was winning, I would write articles about our matches, which I would then circulate among our mutual friends. The gist of all of these stories were naturally what a better golfer I was than Ron. I still have most of them, and if any, are topical, I might post them. Currently, Las holds a $17 lead in the money for ‘07, while I am ahead on the birdie count by 1. There are 2 months or about 8 more matches before the LHC trophy is awarded for the year. Just like the Chase or the FedEx Cup, it’s time for me to kick it in to high gear. If you don’t hear anymore about this, than you can guess the consequence - the LHC Trophy is residing elsewhere this winter. Give a nod to the Golf Gods for me, would ya?  

     Last summer, my teen daughter, Lucy Gordon, indicated an interest in golf. Having bought my older son, Stuart, several sets of clubs over the years that kindled little interest on his part, it was music to my ears to think I might have a family member who would share my passion for golf. Just a few obstacles needed overcoming - her 6 week summer camp each summer, her three times a week dance classes during the school year, the facility improvements at our club which eliminated our driving range and practice tee for the last year, and simply the time and commitment to foster her interest. Well, I am delighted to report that we have persevered.

     Thursday, she had her 3rd lesson. More importantly, I have taken her to hit balls between her lessons. After Thursday’s lesson, we played 5 holes. We hit balls for 2 hours Saturday morning. We’ve got a tee time for Monday. She’s got the golf bug. And I am on Cloud Nine. 

     She’s also got the confidence and exuberance that only comes with youth. She’s convinced she’ll make the Junior Varsity team this year, get a golf scholarship to college, and play on the LPGA. With the slow real estate market, maybe I need to set my goals as high. I know one thing. It sure won’t hurt spending more time in her company, while basking in her enthusiasm.