I WAS KIND OF PUSHED INTO GOLF . . . MY RULE IS, DASH HAS TO ASK ME TO GO TO THE RANGE.
Dash was a year old when he learned to walk, and that’s right about the time he got his first plastic golf club. He’d storm around swinging it one-handed. Six months later he began gripping the club with two hands, but apart, like he was holding a hockey stick. I figured it was correct enough that his right hand was on the bottom and just let him have at it. Before he turned 2, my friends at TaylorMade sent a cut-down JetSpeed driver. In these photographs Dash has his new M1 driver. Amazing.
I was kind of pushed into golf as a kid, so I vowed never to do that with my son. My rule is, Dash has to ask me to go to the range. Our family travels to most tournaments in our RV, and our “home” is almost always parked on or near a golf course. So the game is very present in his world. Dash will grab his driver and say, “Hit balls, hit balls.” He really likes it, and watching his face light up when he connects with one brings me great joy.
My coach and caddie, Colin Swatton, took me from a 12-year-old to where I am today. If Dash ever decides to pursue golf seriously, I’ll put Col in charge. I’d be too technical a teacher for a junior. For now, I just do my best to make it fun. If that ever stops being enough and Dash wants to play golf to win, that desire will have to come from within. Not from me.