The emergence of warmer days and the birds singing reminds me of being a teenager and caddying for my step-dad on a Sunday. I was about twelve or thirteen and so I didn’t have to carry the club’s and back then golf carts had only just come out and so I pulled a trolley with the club’s on.

The golf course fascinated me, mainly because it was filled with wildlife but also because of the men that my step-dad played golf with. We were a working class family but my step-dad socialised with some of the richest people in our area, one owned the local night club, another owned a local high end furniture factory and shops, another owned a large construction company etc. We owned a Datsun and the car park was full of Jags, Mercedes and Rolls royce cars and the men that drove them amazed me, very well spoken and dressed immaculately and looking back I now realise that many of them were probably Masons.

However as soon as we were away from the clubhouse they were different people, they relaxed and became just ordinary men. A sliced shot sending the ball off into the trees would be followed by a volley of foul language and often golf clubs were hurled in anger. I would hear them talking about things that most people would never hear and they fascinated me.

The best thing about being on the golf course was the fact that despite being so close to the hustle and bustle of everyday life, the golf course was quiet and like an oasis in a desert of civilisation. The wildlife was amazing and the massive carp that had been put in the lakes were not afraid of people and would gather at the edge of the lake because they knew some of the golfers would feed them.

The best time on the golf course would be a summers evening, the course was empty by then and my step-dad would let me play as well. We only would play nine holes and sometimes less than that if we ran out of time as the light faded, I always thought one day I would play golf but not until I was in my fourties but I don’t know why I thought that. I had golf lessons and I ended up being able to play quite well, I was never going to be amazing but good enough to play as a hobby.

Of course now I regret that decision to wait until I was in my fourties, as the weather gets warmer and I hear the birds singing I wish I could go and play a round of golf. We all put things off, “oh it’s okay, I’ll do that in ****” but unfortunately we don’t know what will happen around the corner, not being able to things because of disability is hard but knowing I didn’t do certain things whilst I was able is even harder.

By Zechariah Richardson

Over 50, disabled, husband, father and gramps who reviews products and writes blog posts about his life, beekeeping, gardening and whatever pops into his brain!

Please leave a Reply

%d bloggers like this: