We don’t have the most common surname in the world. So it’s always with a bit of a start that I see something like this on the television:
I first heard of Danny Willett when I saw him playing in the British Open about two years ago. He’s English, and since I can trace my family tree back to 1664 when my great(times-many)grandfather came to North America with the English fleet that “liberated” New Amsterdam from the Dutch and re-named it New York, I expect it likely that we’re VERY distantly related.
I suspect I’m probably more closely related to a random stranger from Virginia, Kentucky, or South Dakota than I am to the golfer.
When Danny Willett won the Masters tournament earlier this year, it of course caught my attention. Today he wasn’t doing too well in the US Open (he finished at +9 and tied for 37th place) but I happened to see some of his coverage.
It’s still odd, and a bit disconcerting for some reason. I guess if my name was Smith or Kennedy or Bush I would have gotten used to it at an early age. But it’s not.
At least I’m not seeing someone with the same last name displayed on a mug shot on national television. That couldn’t be a good thing.