My Grandpa

I've been wanting to do this blog for a long time. We're closing in on 10 years since my Grandpa Lynn died. I loved my grandpa very much, and I knew he loved me. In fact, I guess I still do love him...why do we always say we "loved" people after they died?

Grandpa Lynn was born in 1921, grew up during the depression and fought in World War II. In fact, he was at Normandy on June 6, 1944 (a.k.a. D-Day). I remember he had a plaque on his wall that he got for the 50th anniversary of D-Day. After the war, my Grandpa came home, and lucky for me, he and my Grandma had my dad a few years later. In the early 1950's, my grandparents moved to the Black Hills in South Dakota and Grandpa worked in the Homestake Gold Mine for 30 years. He retired in his early 60's and spent his retirement playing golf, watching baseball, moving snow, and driving my Grandma crazy. Their relationship was a special one...I remember on their 50th anniversary, they seemed so in love, and I told my parents "geez, I didn't think Grandma and Grandpa even liked each other." In 2000, Grandpa got cancer, and he died in March of 2001. Grandpa was laid to rest in the Black Hills National Cemetery, and Grandma joined him a few years later.

Sometime during the period right after Grandpa died, I remember telling my Grandma through tears that I had lost my first golf buddy. I'm getting a little teary now just thinking about it. She was teary too and she just said she knew and that I was his golfing buddy too. When I was in 4th grade, my mom had to have brain surgery, so she and my dad spent a lot of that summer in Denver. My brother and I stayed with my grandparents, and I started going golfing with Grandpa and Grandma every so often. I had gone with my dad and grandpa several times the previous summer and I really liked it. That summer is when my love of golf really took off.

Over the next 10 years, I played a lot of golf with Grandpa. It was our thing...every summer I would go spend a week with them and we'd just play golf and watch baseball and have a good time. I don't remember all those rounds, but I remember certain things. I remember how far Grandpa could drive the ball, even into his late 60's. All the years in the mine had really built up Grandpa's muscles, and even though he wasn't real flexible, he could hit the ball hard. Grandpa got to the point where he shot in the low 40's pretty consistently, with the occasional 9 hole round in the 30's, even though he didn't take up the game until he was 50 years old.

I vaguely remember the point where I could start beating my Grandpa...it had a little to do with me getting better and him getting older, but he never cared. He was just happy for me. We would go play sometimes with my Great Uncle Denny, who was Grandpa's every day golfing buddy, and sometimes we'd play with Grandma. Because of 30 years in the mine, Grandpa didn't move the fastest, and Grandma liked to play speed golf. As I said, part of retirement was driving Grandma crazy...sometimes I think he played even slower when Grandma was with us, just to pick on her.

Well, I went away to college, and Grandpa got cancer. In August of 2000, I went home right before I started my last semester of college. One day while I was home, I went golfing with Grandpa, Grandma, Uncle Denny and his wife, my Great Aunt Vivian. We planned to play 18 holes...because Grandpa was sick and getting weaker, he was going to play 9 and then Vivian would play 9. After our first 9 holes, Grandpa shot 54 playing from the Senior Tees. He said he wanted to play the 2nd 9 holes as well, and Vivian let him. Grandpa shot a 49 the next time around. That was the only time all summer he played 18 holes. I get teary thinking about that now too...and it's one of the greatest memories I have of my Grandpa...my first and best golf buddy. That day, he showed me how much he loved me, and I hope he knew how much I loved him and I wish I could tell him how much I treasure that memory.

Grandpa died 6 months later. Because we had a new baby and I had started a new job and frankly because I wasn't sure I wanted to see my Grandpa so weak, I never made it home to see him before he died. In some ways, I was okay with that, because I had that last great memory. In some ways, I was sad that he never got to meet his great grandchild. Grandpa's funeral drew a huge crowd in the small town of Lead, SD. He was buried at the National Cemetery and got a 21 gun salute. Not a day goes by that I don't think about Grandpa Lynn and about how much he meant to me and how much he still means to me. I think that since it's getting close to 10 years now, I've been thinking about him even more, which is why I chose now to write this.

There was so much more to Grandpa Lynn than I can write here, and I've chosen to focus on golf because those were some of our best times together. He was a wonderful man who loved his grand kids very much and gave this particular grand kid enough memories to last a lifetime. Whenever I'm out playing golf, and I pull off some ridiculous shot, I can't help but think that Grandpa is there, giving me a little extra help.

It's in the Grip!

Today, I picked up my golf clubs, after dropping them off on Saturday to get them regripped. I joined a very modest country club this year in an effort to play my golf faster. This little club has 9 holes and, when I've played there, I've generally been able to play 18 holes in 3 hours or less. Much better than the 4+ hours it takes to play a municipal course in the area.

Anyway, the guy who runs the club put new grips on my clubs, which experts say you should do about every 40 rounds or so. When I picked them up, he didn't make me pay...apparently being a member of a club gets you credit for a month. So, I'll be getting a bill next month...which led me to the realization that I will never have to have cash on me when I go to play golf. This could be good or dangerous depending on how carefully I monitor this.

Still not getting to the topic at hand. My new grips on my clubs reminded me of a discussion I had with Nuke a while back. For those who don't know, in addition to being an all around good guy and snazzy dresser, Nuke is also a golf guru. Though he doesn't play any more due to his physical difficulties, Nuke is always a good friend and listens to my golf stories. One time, he even took time out of his schedule to videotape my golf swing, which lead to way too much analysis on my part and a really bad month of golf before I decided to just hit it...but I digress again.

I really appreciate this aspect of our friendship. One day, probably last summer, we were discussing the golf grip. I use an interlocking grip, while Nuke preferred an overlapping grip. I wanted to include a picture, but couldn't be sure of copyright. If you really care to see what these different grips look like, you can find them at this link. Once upon a time, I tried the overlapping grip and promptly shanked the ball, which is the worst shot in golf. So, I went back to my interlocking grip and have moved along happily ever since. Nuke's argument to me was that I'd have much more control and be a better player if I took the time to learn the overlapping method.

Rather than accept this advice from someone who was a better golfer than I'll ever be, I chose to find evidence to support me. I learned that Jack Nicklaus and Tiger Woods both use interlocking grips, which tells me that I'm doing ok if the best two golfers who ever lived use the same grip style that I'm using. However, I also learned that Arnold Palmer and Vijay Singh use overlapping...two pretty good players in their own right. Finally, I did some research and found that most "experts" agree that it is all about feeling comfortable, so I decided it was ok to stick with my interlocking method.

Ok, so there is really no point to this. I just thought of all this because of the new grips on my clubs. Oh, as I was watching golf on TV this weekend (yes, I do that), I noticed that the winner of this week's event, Nick Watney, uses an interlocking grip. That's all. Sorry if you wasted 2 minutes of your life reading this, only to discover I had no point and there is no deeper moral meaning here.