A golf lesson, I guess it started when I was about twelve years old. My friend took me to this place called a golf course. I didn't know why or what we were here for, but I was interested in finding out. We entered a building called a clubhouse; then he paid for a bucket of practice balls. I followed him to the driving range. Once we got there, he got a medal stick from his golf bag and gave it to me. I grabbed the stick, and he showed me how to hold it. Then, he told me to swing it. I swung it back and forth as careless as I could. He then said "You have a swing that might take some work, but I think we can make it better." I did not even know what I was doing with the stick, but I guess my friend knew something I didn't.
My friend then decided that he was ready to teach me how to use the three clubs of golf: a putter, iron, and wood. He handed me the putter, and we went to the green. He explained to me that
a putter is used on a green to get the ball in a hole. I took a few swings back and forth to get the feel for a putter. He said" Hit this ball until it goes in the hole." I was impressed with myself because it only took me eight times to get the ball in the hole. He laid fifteen balls on the green, and he told me to hit the balls in the hole with one shot. It took me about two hours to finish this, but I accomplished what my friend had told me to do.
He began to explain to me what the last club in the bag was used for on the way to the tee box. We walked onto the tee box, and he pulled out the last club called a wood. Once again he put some golf balls on the ground, but then he pulled out this thing called a tee. I had on idea that I was going to put the ball on top of this thing. I set it up, and he told me to hit as many balls as it took to get one straight. I knew at this time that this was going to take longer than the other two club
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