Breaking Clubs and Showing Pigs
Daddy was a good golfer who played every Sunday from 1945 until he died. He shot so well that his golfing buddies begged him to play in tournaments so they could win as his partner, but he never agreed. Different from most golfers, he never went to hit a bucket of golf balls, never practiced, never putted in the back yard, never talked about the great shots he made, never worried about the shots he missed. Contrast that to Loyd who agonized over the game. He put weights in his golf shoes, tape on handles of drivers, bought special gloves, and at least twice broke all his irons and threw them in the lake at Meadowbrook Golf Course. The game had driven him crazy since he first learned to play on the sand greens of Spur. Sand? The community couldn't afford to plant grass, water it, cut it, so all the holes had a sandy surface that was raked after each playing group came through. Nothing like the lovely azalea bushes at the Masters in Augusta. But he was remarkably kind and patient with anyone learning the game and children. I often looked out in the yard to see him letting neighborhood kids like Cal or Emma or Maddie putting golf balls as long as they wanted until they were distracted.
His family, too, played golf on Sunday. One Sunday in particular, his brother Lyndal(shoutout to him for shooting a 71 last week, ten strokes under his age)brought a girlfriend to Spur to see his hometown and meet his family. After lunch when all the men were getting ready to go to the golf course, the girl realized she would be sitting for the next four plus hours in a small town with someone she had just met(Granny Womack) and nothing to do. She told him that he could give her the keys, and she would drive back to Lubbock, leaving him to catch a ride with someone else. Later Grandpa Womack solemnly told Lyndal, "Son, she isn't the girl for you if she doesn't understand about Sunday golf."
But golf has also been part of school change. The spring at Wilson of my first year Joel golfed, showed pigs, competed in UIL news writing and feature writing, meat judging, basketball, maybe some ag contests I don't remember. That meant from January 1st he was out of school at least one day a week. Count that and you have a whopper number of absences although he never got a re-do(local joke for Wilson students). He was typical of other Wilson kids as well as other Texas students, and questions came about whether any Texas students missed the educational experience they should have. So the state guys who decide things determined that no student could be out of school for more than X number of days(can't remember but it might have been 10). From that time on every school had to keep extra careful records of absences for students and sometimes made crazy adjustments so the student wouldn't go over the limit. A couple of times we reversed our schedule and started with 7th, 6th, 5th, etc. so students who had been out of last period too much could get the credit. Once we ran the entire schedule before noon for a basketball playoff. But we didn't care because it helped.
So golf(or any experience) can be satisfying, frustrating, or life-changing. Golf in the future? Not sure because we want things done so quickly these days. So picture a speedier 2030 U.S. Golf Open. Nine regular style holes, nine miniature style golf. Let Bryson try to hit the golf ball through a clown's mouth or before a windmill strikes and see how he likes it. Maybe then we'll hear golf's first colorful language.
Lloyd and his crazy betting on the golf course in Lubbock. He wouldnt miss a day even when he was sick until he got so weak. Miss such an amazing woman of knowledge and history. Great blog.
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