By Tina Mickelson
I wasn’t quite two years old when my father first put a golf club in my hand and I was completely in love with the game before my full set of baby teeth came in. But what impresses me the most isn’t how early he introduced me to the game, but how he was able to let me develop my own relationship with it. I never felt pressure to play, practice or do anything that I wasn’t 100% enthusiastic about, which is why I never burned out.
And God bless my father for putting up with things that he did not plan for. Case in point: When we were kids, we were always welcome to join our dad whenever he planned to go to the golf course. At around eight years old I found gymnastics to be more exciting so when I told my dad I really wanted to join him one day, he was pleasantly surprised. I threw on my favorite blue leotard and jumped in the back seat of the car. I’ll never forget the look on my dad’s face as he turned around to back out of the driveway and saw me in my get up. He calmly asked what I was wearing, and I confidently told him that I was going with him so I could do back handsprings down the long grassy fairways. My dad didn’t flinch.
When we arrived, my dad walked through that parking lot with his head held high and shoulders back, as this little knobby kneed string bean of a kid followed him like a baby duck to the golf shop to check in. He hit his shot off the first tee box and then I was in my glory as I jumped and flipped and split-leaped down the fairway that had transformed into the absolute best gymnastics runway I could imagine. But here’s the thing….even though I wasn’t swinging a golf club, we were still together. We were bonding. And even though I wasn’t playing, my dad would have me hit a shot here and there, and I associated the game of golf with fun. And that is what had me coming back again and again. It. Was. Fun.
Eventually, the actual game of golf became the reason I went to the golf course. And I am lucky to be able to say that I am still able to play golf with my dad today. You won’t catch me dead wearing a leotard, and the mere thought of doing a back handspring makes my joints ache. But what hasn’t changed is my love for the game and the joy I get from being on the golf course with my dad. There is a very fine line between bonding with others on the golf course and burning out. I was (and still am) lucky to have parents who allowed me to develop my own relationship with the game. It is the reason my relationship with golf is so strong today.