'A Boy and His Dad' Category
The Next Nicklaus
October 10th, 2008 categories: A Boy and His Dad
The Whirly Bird
My son Ryan started swinging and hitting shots when he was two. Now at almost 4, he’s plugging them out there pretty well.
I was a PGA golf professional for 12 years and it’s hard for me not to give him instruction beyond the obvious..”line up your club”. Fact is, most mechanical instruction is worthless if you’re not thinking correctly in the first place. Goal #1, have a good time.
Enjoy the video and while it’s a departure from my core focus, what the heck.
| Discussion: 2 Comments »
Shots? We don’t need no stinkin SHOTS!
February 13th, 2008 categories: A Boy and His Dad
About 3 years ago, I became a father for the second time. My kids, Sarah and Ryan are a bit over 20 years apart. To say my experience the second time around was different was just a flat understatement.
Both my kids are handsome but Mr. Ryan is scary cute. (I’m not sure how that happened. Milkman?) The picture to right was an outfit my wife made him for Halloween this year. Little paper surfboard, Hawaiian outfit my mother in law brought back from the islands and a cookie he as given from someone who said for the 500,000th time in his short 3 year life “what a cutie”. Do I get tired of hearing it? Not on your life. He’s not only cute…he’s just awesome. I’m gushing now, I’ll stop.
Last night, we had to take Mr. Ryan to the doctor to get him some antibiotics. You see, we have him in daycare twice a week and he picked up a little strep infection and promptly gave it to my wife and me. She’s on them too and I’m just too damn stubborn to go to the doctor. (wife says I’m going tomorrow 
)
Well, you see, Mr. Ryan doesn’t like to take oral medicine. Spits it up, it’s a whole scene I won’t describe..pink throw up..just not pretty..
Anyway, so we go and my wife opts for the single shot, once and were done, penicillin dose. So we hold Mr. Ryan down and the Nurse Practitioner pulls out a 2″ needle, pinches the crap out of his little leg and jams it in. Mr. Ryan is now screaming that scream that usually results in my pulling out my Uzi and clearing the room of the mess that’s assembled there.
But, alas, I’m working on my emotional control and trying my best not to make a scene with someone who either doesn’t have kids and/or lacks the compassion of an Al-Quida member while Mr. Ryan is going through his “Daddy, hold me” repetitions…it was just more than I could handle. It was more traumatic for me than it was for him. I’m such a wimp for this kid!
In the end, he’s fine and I need therapy! Isn’t this supposed to be the other way around? Thank goodness my wife is patient to a point!
He’ll probably be a bit sore tomorrow but we’ll go play in the park tomorrow, maybe go to the snow and he’ll have a great time. I’ll make sure of that.
Nothing a little Jamba Juice won’t cure! Oh how easy it used to be..
| Discussion: No Comments »
