Time to think about finals.
In April, 1947, the veterinarian students at the Ontario Veterinary College in Guelph, Ontario, were hitting the books in preparation for their
yearend torture exercise in futility final
But, for some of them, the usual angst and stress were missing.
Due largely to a stick and a ball.
Yes. Dad has been telling stories again . . .
These young men had discovered golf.
Okay, I know that it isn’t always the most relaxing of games.
In fact, I’ve seen golf clubs bent into pretzels by a frustrated player.
But it was exactly what these young men needed.
On the morning of their first test, they reported to the examination hall.
Spent a couple of hours cudgelling their brains.
And left drained.
One of them glanced at the golf course, which immediately bordered the school.
“Hey!” he said.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
If he was considering throwing himself on his bed and waving bye-bye to consciousness for a couple of hours, then yes. If he was thinking . . .
“Let’s go take in a game of golf!”
“Seriously. Playing nine holes would relax us for a couple of hours and we’ll be fresher to get back to our studies!”
Dad frowned. Maybe it was sign of how fried his brain was - it almost made sense. But he was too tired. He opened his mouth to tell them he was heading back to the dorm. What came out was, “Okay.”
They actually had a great time.
And his friend had been right. They were more prepared to tackle the books afterward.
And the next day.
And the next.
For the entire nine days of final exams.
I wish I could tell you that there was an unforeseen benefit to all of the golfing. Maybe that one or more of them discovered an affinity to the game. Or even went on to become a star in golf heaven.
I’d be wrong.
Mostly they spent their time trying to get their score under 100.
And that was counting only the strokes that connected . . .
So many skills and talents are discovered at college.
Most of them fun.
Not all of them bankable.