The joy of the innocents; spending time with family

I kept hearing “Dad” or “Grandpa,” and it sounded familiar. Ah yes, my son Grover or my son Teddy with me at Dad’s, working in his truck garden.

They were innocent little kids. They did it all with joy.

This time it was golf.

On Monday, March 20, my grandson Raymond III, who is 5, played his first official game of golf with Teddy (Raymond II) and me (Raymond).

But Teddy and I had changed roles. He was Dad, and I was Grandpa. It made me miss my dad as we went around Granger’s executive course.

Dad didn’t play his first game until he was 65, and he and Raymond played their first round the same way – carefree, like an innocent child.

In golf, “people” know the score at each hole and at game’s end. Innocents swing at the ball and have fun – hit or miss.

Ray was so innocent, it was an absolute joy to be with him. He never asked what score he made on any hole. He didn’t even know his dad and I were keeping track of ours.

I kept track of Ray on one hole, a par-3, and it was about 11, with a couple of whiffs. Teddy credited him with 125 for nine holes, no whiffs counted, and a few hits deducted.

Ray won’t remember his first shot. I’ll never forget it. He whiffed. Then he whiffed. Then he whiffed again. Teddy and I just smiled, then Teddy helped him with his grip, his stance and his swing.

This time he hit the ball directly to the right to the driving range fence. He ran to pick it up while Teddy and I set up.

No, I said. You have to hit your next shot from there. Now wait for Daddy and me to hit.

“Okay, Grandpa.”

Raymond learned to be a gentleman as we went. He waited his turn, he stopped running the greens. But he gave me no break when I asked who he thought would win.

“Daddy,” he said.

A few holes later I protested, accusing him of not liking me as much as his dad.

“I don’t get to see Daddy very much, but I see you every day,” he said.

Teddy works at the top of the world, Prudhoe Bay, Alaska, harvesting oil for BP. He’s gone about half of the year in two or three-week cycles.

I pulled my first shot a little left, but I outdrove Raymond by 20 yards. Teddy pulled too and lost his ball about 250 yards from the tee. No problem. We had a bucketful.

Ray didn’t notice. It was his turn again. He stepped to the ball, and it was in a low spot in the turf. I wasn’t going to let the game frustrate him the first time out. I said: Put the ball on a high spot every time you get to it.

He did, and the ball came up off the turf and flew 20 yards toward the green. Ray was one happy kid as he ran to the ball. He missed, then he hit another good shot.

About halfway through the round, Teddy noticed Ray’s driver might be a little heavy. So I handed him his fairway wood. Once he realized it would lift the ball better than the driver, he stopped using tees. He had many, many more good shots, tee to green. His best was probably 50 yards. The putting was horrible, but we didn’t tell him.

If Raymond really shot 125, he probably had that many, or more whiffs. He didn’t care. Every swing was fun.

I get it. I’ll be 72 in a couple of months. Every swing is fun.