I could have Been Tiger Woods Before Tiger.

When I was younger, much, much younger, my parents got me a golf set so that I cold learn to play and play with my father out on the golf course when I got bigger and better (basically so he could have a golf partner). 
I tinkered, I tonked, I dinked and of course I donked all over the place with those clubs (at least I did in my own mind). 

So I set the stage properly here, you must understand that back in the day (yes, I am old enough I can use that phrase without causing myself mental harm) kiddie sets were real clubs with steel shafts and maybe a touch larger head on the club, not the plastic things you see on the shelves.  Come to think of it the very thing that I am about to tell you may have resulted in that change. 

I have been told over the years, from various people that knew me then (my parents and a few others), that I looked like I had the talent to play golf.  Having played it in my adult years I would have to say that had I kept up with it I might have been good. 

We (you and I) will never know now!

I (as I am sure most of you) have cousins that are a blast to be around and sometimes can just get a tad bit rowdy with when we all get together (even today in our 40s).  We would play tackle football and tackle tag and tackle whatever just to be clobbering each other.  Some of the best tackle whatevers took place at Grandma and Grandpa's house during the Winter in the snow. A story for another day.

This is not one of those occasions.  I apparently always took my golf set with me no matter where we went so that I could hit the balls and imagine myself out on the course playing a round and besting my Dad in whatever tournament we played.  On one of these occasions (trips) I took my clubs and my cousins Jeff and Ricky and their family were there as well. 

So, it ended up that my cousins and myself and my younger brother Donald (Don since he graduated from college, but still Donald to me) were doing our usual beat each other to a pulp rough housing and things got heated. 
(We are talking 30+ years so I will not say with a certainty exactly who or how things got to this point.  If my brother Donald or my cousins Jeff or Ricky would like to put in there 2 cents I will more than willingly post it as it will add to the flavor and the memories of us all.)

Somehow my clubs got involved and my cousin Jeff was chasing us all around like he was going to chop us all up with a sword.  You remember those days, when you played Cowboys and Indians and soldiers or pretended to be your favorite hero?  If not, take a moment and think back really try and remember.  I bet you can find a few times where you did that.
 
Anyway, back to the recollection.

Jeff is chasing us all around and waving one of my clubs like it is a sword and he caught his brother Ricky with a mighty blow.  A blow that would have slayed one of the Dragons on my Dragon page with not another strike needed!  Everything stopped dead in its tracks as Blood began to show itself on Ricky's head.  You can all imagine what happened next.

Parents being parents, my clubs (Jeff's imaginary swords) quickly found their way to the local dump never to be found again.  Looking back at that incident and knowing my Aunt and Uncle and My Parents, they all called the company(ies) that make those kind of things and demanded for safety's sake that they make play clubs from a collapsible plastic from that time forth.  Apparently it worked because that is all they make like that now.

Well, my clubs were gone.  My dream of slaughtering the competition dashed before I was 10. 

Why cruel world destroy the hopes of future golf by destroying The Dragon (I would have chosen that nick name over The Shark, The Walrus, Tiger (but that is his name), etc...... you get the drift)

I look back at it now and can see myself, The Dragon, walking down the 18th of St. Andrews on the final day in a tie with Chi Chi Rodriguez (and his flourishing sword buckling style with his clubs) for 1st and the British Open Title.  Who would win, the sword wielding long putter of Chi Chi Rodriguez or the Monster Fire Breathing Charge of The Dragon?

We will never know now!

My Clubs were forgotten in a matter of weeks and I soon received a book about Space and Astronauts.

I Know!!!!!!

I Can be the Neil Armstrong of My Daughters' Generation!!!!!!!!!!