Hooky

My nephew loves golf. Love might not be a strong enough word. He’s obsessed. In the best possible way.

He had a day off from his summer job at a golf course on Friday, so I played hooky and took him to play another course.

There’s a lot of walking in golf. A lot of time for conversation. We talked golf for three and a half hours. The whole drive home, he broke down his swing, determined to figure out why a new grip was causing him to slice.

I had no advice to offer. I don’t golf much, and I’m terrible when I do. But I know he’ll figure it out. He’s that consumed by it.

How lucky is he to have found something he enjoys doing, that he can’t stop thinking about, that he can do alone and with his friends. The best stoneworkers I know have that same devotion. They’re obsessed with getting better, day after day. A lifetime game.