Golf Clap

After more than a hundred events, I've realized that the person holding the putter isn't always the most interesting person to watch.

It took me a while to notice that.

Like most people, I watched the golf. Who made the long putt. Who won the round. Who hit the obstacle instead of the hole.

But somewhere along the way, I started watching someone else. Not the person holding the putter. The person standing beside them.

The one who applauded before anyone else did. The one who laughed with people instead of at them. The one who somehow made someone else's good shot feel like something worth celebrating.

They're rarely the loudest person in the room, and they're almost never the best golfer. If you asked them what they shot that day, I suspect many of them couldn't tell you. They're too busy paying attention to everyone else.

I spend a lot of time wandering around the course talking to people, and every now and then I'll see someone considering a shot they're not quite sure they should try.

"Go for it."

They miss.

"Try that again. Nobody's watching."

Or someone pulls off some ridiculous bank shot that has no business working.

"I want to see you do that again."

I'm not coaching. Half the time I'm probably encouraging bad mini golf. I just like seeing someone try.

Some people are wonderfully obvious about it. They clap, offer a high-five, shout "Great shot!" across the room, or celebrate someone else's hole-in-one as though they made it themselves.

Others are more subtle.

A smile. A nod. A few simple words.

But there's one thing the best of them seem to have in common.

You can see it in their eyes. They light up when they see something good happen to someone else.

I know those eyes.

They're my dad's.

I doubt he thought there was anything unusual about it. He simply had a way of making whatever you were doing seem worth paying attention to.

And they're not just standing around mini golf courses. They're everywhere.

They're the person at work who asks how the thing went that you were worried about yesterday. The friend who remembers something you told them weeks ago. The person who seems genuinely happy when something good happens to you.

I don't think people like that know they're doing anything special. It's like they have a natural gravity. Not the kind that inescapably pulls you in. Something gentler. Maybe even from a distance. You may not even notice they're doing it. You just feel a little braver about trying the shot. A little less embarrassed when you miss. A little better when you make it.

It's not much, really.

A few words. A smile. Maybe a golf clap :-)

But every now and then I see someone do it, and I recognize something familiar.

For just a second, I feel my dad watching.