ARGENTINA Through Harold’s Lens:
The 2nd Hole Was Murder!!
Long par 4
Dog leg left
Lush green fairway
Long steep hill
Mountain capped by an area for putting.
The little boy was only ten
Nickname: Metty
Tiger of a tyke
Sixty-five pounds
Soaking wet
A four-foot runt.
Dad’s golf bag weighed thirty-one pounds
Stood three feet tall.
Lugging the golf bag up the 2nd hole
Murder by iron and leather.
Barely lift it
Sling it forward
Dump it down
Groan. Swish. Bump.
Groan. Swish. Bump.
Groan. Swish. Bump.
Dad said the bag built character
The small whippersnapper swore quietly
Older brother Chip had taught him the words
The older brother had schlepped the bag up the 2nd hole too
Now the torch was passed.
Groan. Swish. Bump.
All day
6,262 yards
The little nipper humped Dad’s golf bag around the golf course
Week after week
Month after month
For two years.
Groan. Swish. Bump.
Sweat dripped into eyes
Muscles roared with pain.
Groan. Swish. Bump.
Soon, Dad’s male golf tradition was passed
Younger brother Bart
Another runt.
Bart renamed the 2nd hole
“The Bastard”.
Groan. Swish. Bump.
Meanwhile, the shaveling Metty took up other sports
He retired
Other sports are part of his life
Remembers times with Dad
He now plays golf
Character was built.
I saw this old, heavy, sagging leather golf bag in Buenos Aires. It tweaked memories of the great times I had on the 2nd hole, at the Owasco Country Club in Auburn, New York, as I caddied for my Dad.
Through Harold's Lens 
It’s really great to remember the happy times of the past and the lessons we learned from our family. This one somehow made me remember the things my dad taught me which to this day I’m always thankful for. “I saw this old, heavy, sagging leather golf bag in San Telmo. It tweaked memories of the great times I had on the 2nd hole as I caddied for my Dad.”
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Agree Island. The happy ones are great to remember. The bad ones, at times, poke their ugly head through. But, they are all part of building a person’s character.
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Metty,
You write beautifully and you put it in a nice form, your site, which only adds to the photo. I think I shall, given the inspiration, copy these in a book. The phone call and the golf stories shall lead as they are about our family. I, too, share the golf story. Thank you, Bro. Bart
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Bart, my dear younger brother, thank you. I truly appreciate your comments. I’m having a lot of fun with my blog Through Harold’s Lens. It keeps any creativity in my mind active and trying to go forward. Add your email in the space on my blog and you will get an email each time I make a post in my blog. Usually 2-3 times a week. You get no junk mail from this.
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Beautiful memories. Your writing is wonderful; full of pathos, and yet warm and inviting…
Oh yes, Harold; it’s a wonderful image, too…
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Hi Carolyn. Fun memory. Fun to photograph. Fun to write. Fun to create. I think about all of it and it was the golf bag in the antique market that triggered everything.
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Indeed; it is sometimes ‘the little things’ that can create the warmest feelings…
As I mentioned – wonderful writing, Harold…
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Carolyn, thank you. T’was fun keyboard activity.
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Ah, the story in the picture. You make it difficult: which is better: the word-picture or the photograph? I’ll take both.. It’s beautiful.
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Agree with Amos above. Difficult to decide what’s better. Absolutely stellar image and a heart touching story.
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Agreed!
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Thank you Ausaf. Taking the photograph touched off the memory. Then the more I studied the photograph the more blanks that were filled in of memories of golf with my Dad. Suddenly, there it was it front of me. The complete memory.
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Thank you Amos. Sometimes it is tough for me to figure out which one I like better. The image. The story. Having fun with both.
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