As a child, I was taught at home, at school, and at Sunday school, to play by the rules. Of course, I broke some, like not cleaning my room, or coming home on time from a date.  But for the most part, I never threw a scene about a foul nor a bad grade.

When my youngest was a high school senior, one of her friends, Amy, –a renown golfer–couldn’t play golf simply because our high school didn’t have any varsity players.  The Athletic Association dictated that varsity players must be sophomores through seniors.  Amy needed the college scholarship; she was worried it would be taken away if she didn’t play golf.

And with that, Amy’s four, senior friends, signed up for the golf team.  The four had played miniature golf, but real golf?  Not.  “Mom, I made the varsity golf team!”

I was stunned–in fact, 14 years later I’m still stunned!  “Mom, we need to talk.”  Talk?  I knew/know very little about golf.  Perhaps, her dad knew.  “I need clothes.”  Spare me, my kid was always in need of clothes.  Designer this, accessory that, shoes, ad nauseam..

“Don’t you wear a school uniform?”

“Duh, Mom, you’re on the school board. You know girl sports don’t get guy perks.  Golf courses require proper attire.  Collared shirts, Bermuda-length shorts or golf skirts.  The golf course kicks you off if you’re wearing jean shorts and a sleeveless tee.  Can you believe it?  Our coach said she won’t let us on the course unless we’re dressed appropriately.  We have to follow the rules.”

Yes, this was 14 years ago, and yes, I made sure my kid dressed like Michele Wii.  And yes, my kid to this day has a swing that makes men envious at the driving range.

Had I written this four years ago, everyone would have gotten the point.  But today, I need to spell it out:

• My kid and her three friends did this solely to help Amy get her scholarship.  They didn’t care they had no skill.  Their gesture was selfless.
• With the help of their coach, they learned to dress appropriately on the golf course.
• They lost every match with dignity because it was not about them–just Amy.

When I see social media posts: I will not trade my freedom for your safety, I wonder.  Your freedom to wear cut offs on the golf course? Your freedom not to wear a face mask to a private club, like Costco or Sam’s Club? Your freedom not to pay income taxes, nor obey the speed laws, nor wear bathing trunks at the resort pool?

If you don’t choose to comply, I hope you have a good attorney and/or a sympathetic ICU doctor.