Querido Sergio,
You are facing what could possibly be one of your toughest Ryder Cup Singles pairings ever tonight. Anthony Kim has grown from strength to strength over the past two years alone, and proved a formidable opponent in your first Friday Foursome of the Cup this year. Nick Faldo shows faith in your ability through his decision in sending you out first today – and I share his conviction that you will be able to lead the battle for the Cup this afternoon and bring home another European victory.
You may not know this, but I’ve been an avid fan of yours for eight years now. When everyone was “getting married” to Justin Timberlake in one particular Spanish oral in Year 12, I decided that you would make a better faux husband and dedicated many Spanish diary entries to my plans for our grand wedding. In all seriousness, I laugh and share your joy when you hit excellent shots and underscore your standing as one of the world’s best young talents; I cry along with you when you narrowly miss cuts at tournaments, or prove to be a mere stroke or two short of winning championships. I think you’re an amazing, talented golfer, and that’s why I have continued to follow your progress over the years.
If I didn’t have work tomorrow, I would be up at the unearthly hours of midnight and beyond supporting you and Team Europe. Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately, considering how nervous I become when watching golf!) I’ll only know of the eventual score, and who the ultimate winner of the 2008 Ryder Cup is, when I wake up tomorrow morning.
Don’t let me down, Sergio. Let me see the Ryder Cup safely in Nick Faldo’s hands for yet another year this year.
Love,
Me
It’s a little known fact that I have been brought up on a steady diet of golf. My dad is a golfer, and as his first-born child, he felt it was his duty to teach me the ways of the game. So, from the age of nine, I frequented the local driving range with my dad as mentor, learning to putt, to drive, to chip and to swing through him. Many afternoons were spent using the living room carpet back home as a makeshift “green” to improve my putting, and bedtime stories turned into revision sessions on gripping techniques. I watched golf on the television, learned to identify clubs and when to use them, and studied swing techniques.
Alas, it was not meant to be. After about a year and a half, I decided that golf was not my calling, leaving my dad with his new child prodigy — my brother, who at the age of 7, could hit a ball with his driver further than I could.
Ten years on, my skills in the sport have all but dried up, but my love for the game still remains. Golf tournaments, whether televised or in real life, are father-daughter bonding time in the family, although a lot of squabbling takes place while we watch the players in action. Though my dad taught me all I knew about the game, my favourite golfers aren’t necessarily his, and he takes a certain pleasure in being able to rile me up about their shortcomings in tournaments.
My favourite golfer ever is Sergio Garcia, a Spaniard with a sunny disposition — great when watching skins games on the small screen! Like most twelve year old girls, Sergio managed to tranfix me with his playful, boyish charm and great smile. Although he has never won a Major, he manages to deliver well under pressure, and is almost always in contention for the title in every tournament he plays in (he just can’t cement it!) — something my dad loves to bring up whenever he appears on the screen.
His competitive nature and ability to hit brilliant shots when required means that in tournaments like the biennial Ryder Cup, he’s a great player to support; you really feel for the man! And this is the first year in aeons that the Ryder Cup has been teeing off at a particularly good hour (considering the time differences) and/or is being televised on normal cable television and not on a special subscription channel. I’ve spent Friday and Saturday night trying to catch as much Ryder Cup action as possible … all the while fighting for control of the remote with my mum, who insisted that her weekend nights be spent watching movies, and my dad, who decided that his Liverpool-Sunderland match was more important than watching the failing European team.
I’m actually a little relieved that Sergio is teeing off just past midnight tonight on the last day of the Cup. My heart inevitably skips a beat and I tend to hide my face behind magazines, newspapers — anything that’s close at hand — when crucial shots are being played. Golf isn’t great for my nerves, particularly when I’m insanely loyal towards Team Europe and want them to pull off their fourth straight victory so badly.
A Team Europe victory would undoubtedly set the tone for a great last week in Brunei.
I hope I see what I want to see when I wake up tomorrow morning.
“Pa, do you know that Sergio Garcia broke up with Greg Norman’s daughter already?”
“Um, daughter… Does anyone really care except you?”
I rest my case.
