Call it inspiration – a father’s inspiration. Under my father’s tutelage, I learned to play golf. In fact, I didn’t just play golf – I studied it! And this was in the days long before Tiger Woods. As golfers back in the day, my father and I didn’t belong to a country club, but we did belong to an exclusive club. As a kid growing up in a city row house, while my friends were trying to get an orange colored ball through a fairly large hoop, I was trying to get a tiny white ball into a little hole far away. In school, I read books and wrote reports on the legends: Jack Nicklaus, Johnny Miller, Lee Trevino, and of course, Arnold Palmer. Palmer, a Latrobe, Pennsylvania native, was a hero to my father, who was a loyal member of “Arnie’s Army.” I would enjoy watching tournaments televised, such as the Masters or US Open (concluding this weekend at Oakmont out by Pittsburgh), with my father on weekend afternoons. I was entertained by Chi-Chi Rodriquez’ playful “matador routine” staged on the green when he dropped a putt and familiar with Gary Player’s trademark, black, clerical-like attire. Hmmm, maybe “Father” Gary had a heretofore unknown influence upon me too. Student of golf that I was, I learned about its history and the development of clubs from wooden shafts to steel and later graphite. There were soft-cover balls such as those sold by Titleist and hard-cover balls marketed by Top Flite. I quickly learned the meaning of “fore,” but really never quite the meaning of “hole-in-one” – which I’m still trying to understand. It was either a father’s great pride in his son or else, I missed my true calling – in my father’s desire that I play golf professionally – as in PGA (Professional Golf Association). I couldn’t picture myself in Arnie’s combat boots or having a little shtick like Chi-Chi. I suppose that I would have then eventually gone to a school like Coastal Carolina University honing my course skills while studying “professional golf management.” My father wasn’t upset that I didn’t pursue a PGA career. He readily and fully understood that it was not his life to live, but mine. You have to be your own man, he would remind me. He was a bit perplexed at first though, with what I did choose. It was a “game” of sorts that he didn’t quite get – except for the Gary Player part. But that would change. The “hole-in-one” of meeting a pope and future saint helped. As a retired member of Arnie’s Army, he now swore loyalty to the one that I was in. On this Father’s Day, remember to thank your dad! Thank him for his love and help; his guidance and direction in a life that he knows is ultimately yours to live. Then consider: where will a father’s inspiration lead you? Wherever it is, I hope that you too get a “hole-in-one!” Thanks, Dad! And Happy Father’s Day!
Peace!
Fr. Wilson