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Saturday

The gentle awaking

“I think about martina. The little girl with blond hair tied-up with two red bows. On saturday there was no school and i used to accompany my father to play golf.”

Saturday morning

Augusta, USA - 8.53 a.m.

If I think about Saturday morning, I think about Martina.

Not the Martina I know now: the little girl with blond hair tied-up with two red bows. On Saturday there was no school and I used to accompany my father to play golf. In my parents’ room there was a large wooden cabinet, whe- re he kept his golf clubs.

I could not touch them, because I had been taught that they were too valuable, and certainly not a children’s toy. I would just sit in bed, watching my father cho- osing which clubs he wanted in his dark blue bag.

He was a
good player,
and i was proud
of him.

You just saw a glimpse of Saturday!

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