“We’ve never done anything together that I’ve actually cared about.”

“What do you mean? I thought you love golf?” I replied.

I am caddying for my son in the college golf semi-finals.

It is day four of the four-day tournament and he is second, trailing by one stroke.

The round started on Sunday, and I am wanting to win because if he wins this tournament then he gets to go to the pro tournament.

We are on the tee box, ready to start the round, when the announcer tells the crowd who is on the tee box.

After that it is silent and Andrew, my son, is teeing off and hits it dead straight right down the fairway.

“Good shot son.” I say.

We walk down the fairway looking at the other competitor while talking.

It is early in the morning and there is still dew on the grass.

Birds chirping and with there still being a thin layer of fog in the air.

Everything is going smoothly and we are confident that we will have a good day.

Half way through the round we are still down by one stroke, and I start to stress out gripping the club nervously thinking we might not be able to finish in the top spot.

I start to switch up the game plan taking him out of his comfort zone while he looks at me with a face that is sour and I took it personally.

That was his way of trying to tell me I am wrong.

He hits the shot and it doesn’t go as we want and he hands me the club and doesn’t say a word.

The disappointment on my face is visible and we are now down by three strokes.

We are on hole twelve and are about to tee off and I hand him his driver instead of iron for the safe play.

“Why driver?”

“Now is not the time for a safe play,” I reply.

He hits a mediocre shot and once again I get the silent treatment.

A few more bad holes and we are in fifth on the leaderboard with four holes to go.

“You are going to have to lock in if you want to come out on top.” I say.

“I don’t even care anymore,” it was silent for a few seconds.

“We’ve never done anything together that I’ve actually cared about.”

“What do you mean? I thought you love golf?” I replied.

We are arguing in front of everyone at the event and a rules official comes over to ask if everything is okay.

“Yes, we are fine,” was my response.

As we approach the next shot I ask him “what do you want to do?”

He says “I don’t know, I want to finish the tournament but I want to do it my way.”

“Let’s do it.”

The next shot is a two hundred and forty yard shot with water in front of the green.

He can go for it with his three wood, or he can play it safe with an iron.

He grabs an iron and he lines up to the ball with full confidence.

I already know he is going to hit a good shot.

BAM!

He hits the ball dead straight perfectly in front of the water.

He gained his confidence back not even looking where the ball is going to land, he just knew from how he hit the ball it was an amazing shot.

I was feeling confident as well.

I was even more confident when we gained two strokes back playing it safe on just that one hole.

It all comes down to the last hole. We are tied for first and it is a tricky par four, a birdie should win it all.

I suggest that we play it safe with an iron.

He pulls out the driver.

I am feeling nervous and almost turn away not to watch.

He hits it and it looks like it is going to be a little too far to the right but then it instantly hooks to the right leaving him with a perfect spot to hit his second shot.

The other opponent is stuck by some trees so there is a perfect opportunity to play it safe and secure a win.

The other player had to punch out into the fairway which means if we go up and down then we win.

He goes up to the ball, the crowd is silent and he hits it, and I can see the intensity in the shot tracking the pin and it goes in.

It doesn’t even hit the ground straight into the cup.

The whole crowd is cheering as he throws the club into the air running around.

He wins the tournament and gets go pro from it in the next tournament all because he played the game the way he wanted to.