Profile Paper

On a frigid Saturday morning my father and I bundle up our toasty windbreakers, and head for the first tee. The brisk wind shakes the tops of the enormous oak trees, and burnt orange leaves rustle along lime green fairways. The smell of freshly cut grass fills the air. I hear mowers buzzing, and birds chirping. The fresh dew on the bright green grass slowly amassed on the tips of our golf shoes. The thermometer read a chilly forty six degrees.

After teeing off on the first hole of Lake Arrowhead championship golf course, we hop in our cart and begin our eighteen hole adventure. The oaks overhang as their orange, yellow, and maroon leaves slowly drizzle down and settle on the bent grass fairways. Stepping out of the cart my foot sinks a little from the four inches of rain the course received the night before. I select my desired club and address the ball. I strike my approach shot solidly, and I watch with anticipation as it skies into the air. The shot looks almost perfect from my direction. The ball divots deep into the soft aerated green and rolls just inches from the hole.

“Nice shot buddy,” shouts my father from the cart.

I jokingly reply, “Not too bad.”

I am filled with excitement as I know my ball is only a short way from rolling into the small deep hole. I then address my ball and tap it in for a birdie.

“Good way to start huh?”

“Yeah not too shabby,” my father replies as he finishes out the hole with a six.

“I can never win anymore.”

I reply with a smile on my face, “I know that’s because I am younger than you.”

On the next hole my father made a stupid mistake. He was aiming directly at a tree just off the fairway. From the beginning I didn’t think he was lined up right. A loud tink noise from the titanium driver echoed through the alley of trees leading to the green. Following that was the noise of a solid golf ball crashing into a large oak tree. The ball rifled backwards and went no further than twenty yards. I fell on the ground laughing hysterically.

“Not a good shot dad, take a mulligan.” After bombing the next one down the middle of the fairway my dad replied simply with a thanks.

When my father and I are out on the golf course, it’s like he’s a whole different person. Even though he is his same old goofy self, he likes to ask me a lot of questions about my life. Not too serious though, just about my girlfriend and school. He also likes to tell me how proud of me