"My dad and I are best friends, as close as wecould be," says the imposing defenseman. There'sa heart of Jello underneath what can be a DirtyHarry scowl, and the younger Louis F. Body speaksof his father in such soft tones as these.
"[My father] was a draft pick of thePhiladelphia Phillies right out of high school,but he turned that down to go to college," hesays. "Where...his career ended abruptly becauseof a broken thumb."
Body continues to feel his father's loss. "Henever really got a chance to experience teamsports, and I want to include him in myexperience. He comes to all my games, and has somuch fun at the games that I'm kinda playing notjust for me but for him also."
Which raises the alerted eyebrow: is Bodyactually a "little league victim?" No, he says,and he draws an important distinction.
"I wouldn't say that there is pressure fromDad," he says. "There are expectations from pastperformances, but if I wanted to quit hockeytomorrow, I'd be free to do as I want. He'd likeme to continue, and he'd think it would be amistake if I didn't because he thinks every oneshould give their dream a chance."
But as long as the decision is still Lou's tomake, he is immune to the Capriati problem. Andthat issue has never bothered Body; as it is withFarrell, hockey is still a game (albeit one whichwill always be part of his life), and as far as heis concerned, caring for his family always comesfirst.
After that, though, there are no hard and fastrules. His upbringing taught him value education,and he puts sports and academics into at least ahazy focus when he says, "I kinda traded hockeyfor this education. In ten years, I won't beplaying on this level, and maybe I'll have usedthe Harvard name to get me someplace in thislife."
After four years, it is the word "hockey" thatreadily rolls off the tongue. Not "baseball"--thatwas for his youth. Not "golf"--although thatdidn't fade from primacy until recently. No,hockey is the sport for Body now, although it tooka long time for it go gain supremacy.
Naturally, Body first took after his father andbecame a baseball bum. "Any position where youcould get the ball a lot, that's where I'd play,"he laughs.
But golf and baseball are both spring sports atManhasset High School, and a choice had to bemade. Ironically, his father helped push himtoward the practice tee and away from the battingcage--the one change Body wishes he could make,given another chance.
"That's the one thing I actually regret," hesays. "I wish I had played baseball, and I stilllove the game. But we'd put some good work into mygolf game by then, and I was shooting some goodnumbers. Being the number-one man on my highschool team in ninth grade kinda made it easier."
The family basement is also home to agolf-oriented laboratory of sorts, as both fatherand son run a small club-repair and constructionbusiness. But even as Body entered collegiate golfwith a bang, winning the Greater Bostons in hisfreshman year, he knew that he needed to put hislinks career at least temporarily on ice.
"That freshman year, I put a lot of effort intoacademics, hockey and golf, and there was a lot ofjuggling going on," he says. But slowly I startedto realize that, considering where I wanted to goin hockey and how much better I needed to makemyself, I had to put golf on the back burner."
It is a tribute to his prodigal golfing talentsthat he can coast on ability alone and still playin Harvard's number-one spot when hockey allowshim. He admits that he has "been riding my talent[since freshman years]," and he knows he mightcheat himself if he refuses to give more ofhimself.
"I have not put in the wholehearted effort ittakes to play on a professional level"--mind you,can he can hit the ball as long anyone on Tour,John Daly included, and he knows how to work theball to draw or fade--"and I know that right now.,I don't have it mentally, I don't know if I everwill; right now, I just hit it as hard as I can,as far as I can, as many times as I can."
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