By Tan Tuan Nguyen
I grew up in a modest rural village where the word “golf” was as foreign as another planet. Catching glimpses of the sport on television was a rare treat, usually reserved for special weekend programming. Back home, football (soccer) reigned supreme – the “national sport” where our childhood laughter and energy were spent after school. In front of our small family home lay a lush green field, which every afternoon buzzed with shouts and the thud of cleated shoes on leather balls. I, too, joined in, running and playing with my friends.
Then, one day, during a chance encounter with a television commercial, golf appeared. The image of elegant men, gracefully swinging clubs to send a small ball into a distant hole on a manicured green instantly captivated me. I don’t recall the exact moment, but from that instant, an intense curiosity about this sport ignited within me. Every afternoon, while my friends were engrossed in football on the familiar field, I would seek out an old wooden stick, worn smooth from interactions with trees and fences. I crafted my own makeshift “golf club” and used it to hit small rubber balls across the vast expanse of the field. Though a far cry from professional golf, it was my way of nurturing a silent dream and a burgeoning passion.
My dream was to truly experience golf once I graduated from university and moved to a big city. As planned, during my years of working low-wage jobs, I never forgot my passion. After work, I’d linger at nearby driving ranges, simply watching the gentlemen practice their swings, a sight that filled me with excitement. Back then, in 2012-2013, Ho Chi Minh City had only a handful of limited practice facilities, and golf was far from the popular sport it is today in Vietnam. Yet, I persevered. I saved diligently, bought used golf clubs from other players, and practiced in quiet solitude while my friends remained devoted to football and the occasional tennis match. It wasn’t until 2016 that I officially played golf and began to socialize with fellow enthusiasts, finally holding a real club on a real course.
After nearly a decade of dedicated practice, I have played on most golf courses in Vietnam and several in the United States and Australia, achieving a Handicap of 05. Today, I play primarily for the camaraderie and the experience. However, my greatest joy now lies not just in playing, but in sharing the lessons I’ve learned from golf with younger generations. Notably, my 9-year-old daughter shares my passion and wishes to learn the sport formally. For the past two years, I’ve been teaching many enthusiastic young golfers through free sessions at local practice facilities.
Then, one day, while taking my daughter to practice, she innocently asked, “Dad, do you have any golf certifications? You teach so many people.” That question struck me-a simple, honest inquiry that highlighted my lack of formal credentials. I realized that my teachings, while born from personal experience and observation, lacked professional training and official recognition. This realization spurred me to invest further in my passion. I researched coaching programs in Australia, Thailand, Vietnam, and the United States, ultimately choosing to travel to the U.S. In mid-March, I completed an intensive training program at the Las Vegas Golf Club, organized by the USGTF, under the expert guidance of Master Professional Bill Rise.
This journey to obtain my USGTF coaching certification is, perhaps, one of the most significant decisions of my life. It’s not merely about gaining professional recognition for my knowledge; it’s about being equipped to share my passion for golf more accurately and professionally with aspiring golfers, especially the youth and my own daughter. I aspire to spread the joy of golf far and wide, reaching out to those who, like my younger self, once perceived it as an inaccessible luxury. Golf is not merely an exclusive pastime for the elite; it is a sport of perseverance, a testament to passion, and a realization that dreams can indeed be achieved, regardless of where one begins.