Changing Your Grip

I found myself procrastinating on writing a new post.

I told myself that I had a lot of other writing to do… but maybe it wasn’t that.

Maybe it was about having to be at a family occasion where I saw TJ. He has a new life, you see. And that’s fine. I have my life, he has his, we have the boys on common. And now grandchildren. Those four beautiful boys we had and raised around the Tour are now grown men with wives, children, fiancees… They’re magnificent, if I do say so myself. I have so much to be grateful for.

The hard part is the awkwardness. The stiffness that seems to exist now between us. We did manage to have a short conversation about — you guessed it — golf. I told him about Dan Parks at Ravenwood Golf Club in Victor, NY. I wrote a short article about Dan’s involvement in 3D golf and biomechanics. TJ seemed interested. We spoke briefly about Pat Perez. TJ told me that Pat Perez “used to beat the pants off” Tiger when they were in high school. I didn’t know that.

Then we drifted to separate parts of the house for the rest of the party.

So…

Sadness led to procrastination. We went through a great adventure together from the time we were college sweethearts until we were past forty. I feel compelled to tell that story. I wish he and I were able to talk about it now — I’d like to get his take on things, ask him questions for facts and figures… He’s brilliant at that.

Instead, I will go back to the beginning and tell my story and glean the lessons. Thanks for being here to share them.

In the beginning

I had never seen such tiny grass. I was 18 and it was the first time in my life I’d ever been on a golf course. I was there with TJ while he practiced at his home course. We were at the beginning of being wildly in  love. We’d known each other since we met at a parish youth club dance. (Can you get any more wholesome?) My BFF Lynn — and her girlfriends — grew up with TJ. I was spending the night at Lynn’s and we went to the dance in the church basement. TJ was 15, already tall and brawny.

We had the usual short up & down romance of 16 year olds, then didn’t go out together again until we were both about to graduate from our respective high schools.

Now it was summer. I was headed for Europe on a trip with my mom,aunt and cousin — 21 days out of the country. TJ was well into his amateur schedule of golf tournaments before we both headed for college.

He got a kick out of me loving that tiny grass. I took my shoes off and felt the velvet green on my toes. The sun was setting. He kissed me between practice putts.

That began my time of learning to follow. Maybe it was those kisses and moonlit parking on the golf course that led to me to always see TJ as pure electricity when he played.

By the end of our sophomore year in college, we were married.

We were married on a Friday evening — during a very prestigious amateur better ball tournament TJ was playing in. They changed his tee time so he could be finished in time for the wedding. And the next day, he teed off at 8a.m. And played 36 holes. And I followed him. We were a source of curiosity and not a little ribbing.

On Sunday, he won the tournament. And for the first time, he had a wife at the course to share it with.

We went home with a silver trophy. We opened wedding gifts. And I started my life then — married to golf.

The lessons began.