It begins

The last day of school began the unofficial start date of the Reinhardt golfing season. Ed, Bob, and I traveled to Richfield to golf one of the finest minigolf courses the metro area has to offer. The June afternoon was warm, but not hot; the course offered plenty of shade and a lovely waterfall; and I treated the boys to DQ after the 18 holes of play — even let them order something beside a small cone or a dilly bar. Regular followers of Team Reinhardt may notice a new happening on the scorecard. Yes, I won — only after a couple of lucky "holes in one," but I'm not posting all this to brag or to "take it to" my boys. For the first time in four and one half years, Bobby beat Eddie in an organized sport. Now, Bobby wins lots of things at our house: he is "Mr. Zero" as a goalie in basement soccer, drives in many runs in wiffle ball, and beats Ed in a footrace now and again. But rarely do we pit the boys against each other and even more seldom to we challenge one to beat the other. But here we were, on neutral ground, each doing our best -- and each keeping a very accurate record of strokes taken -- and Bob soundly beat Ed by three strokes. Eddie took the defeat well -- it didn't hurt that he used too big a club for the front nine. And Bob barely mentioned that he beat Ed, mentioning only that mom won and that he came in second. But the twinkle in his eye told me that he took full notice off the occasion and squirreled the victory into a little compartment of his memory to pull out -- for his own unspoken comfort -- from time to time.