Golf for Everyone

“Hey, Willie, I’ve gathered more balls this morning.” Frank set the bucket down on the torn-up lawn and went to fetch their old clubs. Their proximity to the neighborhood golf course gave the friends ample opportunity to watch the masters from outside the fence, and Frank in particular was determined to learn the game. They had even devised a three-hole course in the backyard for practice.

Frank took his stance and swung the club a few times. He aimed his sights on the hole, trying to emulate the great players he’d observed. His family had no money for lessons, so he taught himself, trying to remember every nuance of the game. “I’m going to play on that course someday,” he gestured vaguely across town with his club, “and I’m going to have my own caddy.”

“How do you know about caddies?” Willie’s gaze challenged Frank.

“I’ve been working over at the club to earn some extra income to help out; they pay me two bits per round.” Trotting dutifully to fetch wayward balls, Willie waited patiently for his turn. The game didn’t hold nearly the fascination for him that it did for Frank, but he admired his comrade and was willing to help out, just for the enjoyment. It was also a great excuse not to do schoolwork, although Frank often got in trouble for neglecting his studies.

The next day, they walked a mile to catch the streetcar headed across town. After transferring twice to connecting streetcar lines, they walked over half a mile more to a public course, talking golf the entire time. “When I grow up, I’m not going to forget people like us. I’ll have some young fellow caddy for me just like you’re helping me now.”