I’m all the sports parent my daughter needs

The first time I put a golf club in my daughter’s hand, she was 2 years old. It was made of plastic, and it had a bright purple club face. I showed her how to swing the club properly, arranging her pudgy little fingers correctly on the handle. She swung at the white, plastic golf ball and it whisked across the lawn in a full arc.

Moments later, she was running through the grass taking swings at the ball with her less dominate hand as if she were playing some kind of backwards game of hockey. I took joy in that, too — watching her play and explore the different ways she could hit the ball, chasing it from one end of the lawn to the other. She began taking an interest in sports at such a young age, and I was open to any and everything she wanted to try.

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