My Christmas Surprise

Among the gifts I got for Christmas this season, one stands out for its surprise and its deeper connection than the gift-giver ever thought possible.

My wife's family are proud trollers of the antique/consignment/Goodwill market. Her mother even proudly boasts that I should get into it as well, since there are fewer "greener" things I could do than support the purchase of things that already exist therefore I don't have to resource-wasting "new-ness." This doesn't mean buying a bunch of obvious crap. It's more about taking the time to find the hidden gems.

The wife's aunt did exact that when she presented me with this framed LeRoy Nieman poster for the 2000 PGA Championship in Louisville. She said she got it because it was a great steal of a price (under $10), knows I love golf and figured it was a poster from Nieman, a immensely popular American artist, from an event held in Louisville, so she figured, 'Why not?'

Her aunt could never have known, but this poster is perfect. Perfect because it recalls one of the last great memories I have of my dad. He and I spent five days walking around the grounds of Valhalla Golf Club watching some golf, talking about UK basketball, talking about whatever, sometimes not talking at all and instead just enjoying the walk.

We sat at the top of a hill along the 9th green where from there you could actually watch the action on four other holes, making it a sweet view for lots of action. We watched golfers play every shot of the 9th, and we talked strategy of where guys should play certain approach shots because after 8 hours at one spot you saw just about good and bad shot imaginable, even from pros. My dad volunteered at the event, which meant he got to sidle up along a sorts of pros (there exists a picture of my dad with Jack Nicklaus – only one of the happiest days of his life - but I can't find a copy of it) and get us into all the good hospitality tents.

Each day we sat at a different spot on the course, taking in as much as we could, and when we did follow players around the course to watch them play a few holes in a row, it was always his favorite guys like Nick Faldo or Paul Azinger. My dad was not a Tiger Woods fan, but when he went 7-under on the final 11 holes during Sunday's final round, even he was impressed. When Bob May forced a playoff, we sat on the edge of the 18th green and I listened to the first two holes of the playoffs on a portable radio and relayed the happenings to the 80 people who could hear me out of the thousands huddled around the green. When Tiger hit that huge put on 17 (3:14 mark of this video - No. 2 moment, and we were there), the waves of cheers could be heard from places on the course I didn't even know there was a course.

It was a great week, not that I had ever forgotten it. But it took a surprise Christmas gift from an unlikely source to bring me back to that good time, and now I get to remember it all the time. Perfect.