The middle boy, G., wrote this letter last October. He’s nine years old and to say that he’s focused is an understatement. He cries when they drag him home from the golf course. He realizes that academics go hand in hand with being on the golf team at a Division I school. He obviously realizes that Georgia Tech…for some reason he wants to play golf at Georgia Tech…is a strong Engineering school.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
One of my best buddies has honored me over the years in ways that I’ll never be able to repay. I’m not certain what I ever did to have friends as loyal. His oldest son is my godson. His next oldest son’s first name is my surname. Thank goodness that his third and final son is named for yet another one of his good friends.
He wants to live in Pinehurst North Carolina and has surmised that he will have to work his way to greater levels of responsibility in the business world. G. assumes I suppose, that if you work hard and apply yourself that maybe you’ll be rewarded. And you can play golf every weekend…and “just be a flat out great golfer”.
He’s nine years old.