for Jack, Christmas 2006
“It was the worst of times, it was the best of times.” This rearranged line from Dickens can describe my life with my brother. Obviously this needs a bit of explanation and that’s what I’m here for, to explain … Jack.
Jack is one year older than me and as small children, he tended to taunt me and generally aggravate me. I think it’s written as a rule somewhere; RULE: OLDER BROTHERS UP TO FOUR YEARS OLDER ARE FREE TO TORMENT, PESTER AND GENERALLY AGGRAVATE YOUNGER SIBLINGS. Regardless, the years passed and Jack wasn’t really a huge pest (typically he probably hadn’t read the rule), just a nuisance at times. But whatever the reason, we were never really close as young kids. The pestering stopped after junior high, and as we progressed through high school our relationship changed a lot. We became closer and were friendlier toward one another. Maybe it was simple maturity, but I like to think I saw something in Jack that I hadn’t seen before. It’s one of those intangible things that no one can really describe, yet they know exactly what it means. And it was that intangible quality, that bond that develops from simply being a brother, to being your best friend. Maybe it wasn’t Jack so much as it was me. Whatever the reason, Jack became my best friend and was the best man at my wedding. Best man, best friend…how fitting.
Then came golf. I became interested only a few years ago and I looked to my best friend to teach me the game. Jack had been playing for years, and though I didn’t ask him specifically, I watched and studied how he approached the game. He wasn’t great, but he was meticulous. Those traits were something our Dad had taught both of us so many years ago. Jack’s subtle reminders about etiquette were invaluable and I still think of him when I play. And Jack never forced anything on you as a golfer, but when I asked his tips were always fundamentally sound and have helped me in the years I’ve been playing.
Those fortunate enough to play golf know that you spend several hours on the course; quiet time where you can really get to know someone. For some it’s the place to build a client base and get more customers. For others it’s a place of challenge where frequent errant shots are met with quiet cursing under the breath or loud admonitions towards one’s self may be heard from an adjacent fairway. For me, golf was a place to forge even stronger the bonds of brotherhood; to build upon a friendship that was slow in the making, but has stood the test of time. I look forward to every chance I can to play with Jack because I know that for all our erratic shots, for the putts that broke left instead of right, for all the crowed courses where we spent waiting on players worse than us, it was a time of building and bonding. It was a time where a brother can really get to know his brother and truly call him his best friend.
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