Tomorrow would have been my Dad’s 71st birthday, he died when he was 66.  Three years later my Mom died at 66 as well.  Although I wish they could have been around longer, they lived a good life, and I don’t suppose they had too many regrets.

Why would I bring this up in a golf blog?

Because they played the game of life just like you would hope to play a round of golf, and they played it like Arnie and Phil.  Fun was their primary objective, they leaned into risk with the hope of great reward, and they swept ‘bad shots’ under the rug while inviting everyone to enjoy the ‘good shots’ with them. 

In life, they always loved joining up with others.  People they didn’t know at all, or people that had been friends their whole lives – it didn’t matter who you were, if you wanted to play and have fun, Bev and Greg were in. For most of us, that is what we want golf to be, just a good time with friends.

If Bev and Greg could pull off a shot, well, sure as hell they would try.  And here is where I go heavy on the “life is like a round of golf”, golf analogies. Greg, born and raised on a farm and Bev adopted into a middle-class home, the pair were what golfers call “self-taught”.

The two went to prom together and reunited as a couple of ski bums in Banff, Alberta. In other words, they piped drives down the middle of the first fairway as they celebrated life every day on the slopes and in the pubs après ski. They made a few pars and bogeys as they tried to get a rhythm for this game of life back home in Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan.  And then they saw a window through the trees to go for a par 5 in two when involvement in a Texas real estate development became available.  Chip out and make your par (stay in Moose Jaw working less than meaningful jobs) or knock it on, make eagle, and be off to the proverbial races? 

They knocked that ball to three feet. Fist Pump! They made eagle. Millionaires by the time they were 30. Holy shit, this game is easy!  Don’t say that! Never say that!  Oil prices crashed in ’86.  The golf equivalent to a really bad bounce.  This one bounced way out of bounds.  What score is bankruptcy?  A 10 maybe?  They didn’t put an “X” on the card like they could have though. Tenacity. Important for this game.

Moving in with Bev’s parents, with kids in tote. Score a 7 on that one. Greg, a dreamer, picking up work selling cars to make ends meet – well that’s a birdie, I think, but Greg might have scored it differently.  Giving your kids Christmas gifts, a pair of new shoes, and protecting them from how broke and scared you must have been at times – pars and birdies for sure.  They are grinding and ‘righting the ship’, so to speak. 

Another opportunity to hit a hero shot comes along – or do they play it safe?  It involved moving again. To British Columbia.  I remember the day Dad consulted me on this one. I was 9.  He asked my opinion and I told him to go for it.  I can’t say for sure what the other “caddies” in the family suggested but Bev knew who she married and supported him all the way.  My sister, Christa, was older, and I think she felt like this was a lot to take on. All in all, they went for it….

Seeing the Rocky Mountains for the first time in our car ride West would have been akin to watching the flight of a great shot.  I was mesmerized by it all.  I felt like they hit the shot well.  We landed in a rental house near White Rock. Birdie. Settled into new schools. Pars, Bogeys, Doubles, depending on who you are asking.  Living a 5-minute walk to the Pacific Ocean – Albatross, Bro! 

Greg had a falling out in business, and with his partner. That hurt.  I was young, but the end of that partnership might have been comparable to someone stepping on the ball of Bev and Greg or kicking it behind a tree.  I recall things didn’t seem fair but, I don’t suspect Tiger Woods has ever claimed “it’s not fair”. I never heard mom or dad say it either.  Doesn’t seem like the words of a champion – so on they went to the next tee.

Next business adventure. Bogey.

Next one. Bogey. 

But when you don’t win, you learn.  Experience is key. Trial and error.

The hero story of the career Pro that is down to his last dime and needs to make the cut just to continue playing the game he loves.  That was Greg and Bev. Well, he not only makes the cut, but he finishes top 10.  He goes on to get a couple top 5’s and then, as desire and intention, not luck, would have it – he wins!   That would be the analogy of the next 10 years in the saga of Greg and Bev.

Dad’s new business adventure is paying, and everybody wins.  I can play more golf courses now instead of beating buckets at the driving range. Birdie. I am a junior member at an actual course. Birdie. I get to start playing golf with my Dad. Birdie. We buy a house of our own. Eagle!  All our friends, both Greg and Bev’s, as well as mine and my sisters are always welcome. Open door. It is a place of love, warmth, acceptance, friendships, and fun. Always and forever building friendships that will last a lifetime. HOLE-IN-ONE!

I’ll admit, Greg and Bev had a few unlucky bounces on the way back to the clubhouse. Business. Health. Life. Such is golf. They didn’t finish the round the way they envisioned – if they finished the round at all. Dying at 66 respectively.  Maybe that’s the 14^th hole, or so?  But, looking back, I don’t suspect it is the number of holes you play, but rather, the fun you had and the people you loved along the way.  They were Arnold Palmer, swinging brazenly at a three wood, going for the par five in two, over water.  They were Phil Mickelson from the pine straw at Augusta, destined to win.

I think they did win.  They won because they played.  They played the game of life.  They didn’t “do” life. They didn’t let life control their narrative.  They didn’t necessarily have a long-term game plan or course strategy, which, I’ll admit, may have kept them “out of trouble” and allowed them to finish 18 holes but, they played the game and they played it with heart. 

A person can hit an iron off every tee so they are sure to hit the fairway, or they can go for the middle of every green, so they are sure not to find the trap.  But come on – what is the fun in that?  Wouldn’t you rather play 14 holes with all your friends surrounding you, cheering you on, and you cheering them on, trying to hit great shots? 

Like golf, maybe there is something to be learned here.  Maybe there is a different way to play the game of life that checks all the boxes, I don’t know.  The reality is, you never know how many holes you are going to get to play, so enjoy the company you keep, take a breath and drink in the beauty of your surroundings, have fun, and take risks, but don’t be silly with those risks. Know your strengths and your limitations and do the best you can with the cards you were dealt (or the clubs you were given). Celebrate your good shots and learn from, or forget about, the bad ones.  Above all – play the game and don’t let the game play you. Because really, that’s what life is, it’s a game, and we are all blessed to even have the chance to be playing.

Thank you, Mom and Dad, for showing me how to play the game of life.

Love Always,

Scott