Last Sunday I spent a fun day with grandchildren, son and wife. We splashed all day at the pool. My kin went back to their house and my lovely mate had some chores.
Left to my own design, I decided to do one of the things I love most: golf.
Never get golf mixed up with exercise.
So in the late afternoon heat (100 +) I packed my cart with cold wet towel and a thermos of ice water. Warming up as per my usual 1/2 bucket of balls, I headed out to the dazzling lime fairways to once again do battle with my brain into delivering a smooth swing with the right weapon.
I was in rhythm with the world
I smacked my first drive 300 yards downhill and downwind. Then I stuck a wedge 5ft from the pin and sank the putt. Usually, I go 5 rounds in a row without as much as a birdie. A little fist pump, not too much…like I expect that to happen on every hole…just like Tiger.
Good start…"Weinbaum's one under after one" I could hear Johnny Miller announce to the millions glued to their TV's.
I knew a golfer that was so unlucky that when they went to bury him, he lipped out.
The second hole brought me back to reality: a poorly driven lake skimming slice ending on the next tee box, followed by an over-chipped thrice putted disaster.
Double bogie.
Back to normal…two holes, one over par.
Miller is silent.
The most lost and found thing is your golf swing.
The third hole is another par three back over water about 145 yards, all carry. I was now facing the big hot wind. I chose a 6+ hybrid, on the theory that if I hit it high I'd avoid the lake and maybe, just maybe, the Southeaster would knock it down on the green.
The swing was smooth. The ball skied high like I planned, but I immediately got the sense that I flew the green, leaving a tough downhill chip. I didn't see the ball land…bad sign. My cart hummed up the lake skirting path, as cold towel soothed my sweaty bald dome. I took a long swig of ice water from my thermos.
Back to work.
The first thing I noticed was a huge round aperture scarring the green like a small meteorite had slammed straight down from space. It was 5' directly behind the pin with no ball in sight. Scanning the front of the green, just in case I had suddenly developed an amazing skill to yank a ball backward ala Tiger, I saw nothing. I even looked in the lake. Who was I kidding? I golf like O'Reilly (thinks he) talks…no spin.
No luck…or should I say good omen?
At least my ball was dry.
Resigned to being over the green, I trudged uphill to fix my divot, Sand wedge and putter clanking in left hand, divot repair tool in my right.
As one passes any hole on the way to a King Kong shot that should have been more Minnie Mouse, one must take the obligatory, yet hidden glance at the deceptive little cup pinned in the middle with a flag dancing on top to the hot wind.
A semi-muddy white orb winked eerily at me…from the bottom. I looked up, waited 5 seconds and looked down again. Same sight…my ball…in the hole.
WHOA NELLIE!!
I got a HOLE IN ONE!!!
YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEES!
Wait a minute, not so fast…what's wrong with this picture? No one was around. Can I get a WITNESS HERE? I did a quick 360. This was the first time I didn't see a soul on that course for the last 30 years.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" I screamed. This is a golfer's nightmare.
Where's that Johnny Miller when you really need him?
I called the one person I could trust, golfing bud, lover, best friend and wife, Joni.
She laughed so hard, I thought she was going to break a rib.
I used to be a bowler, but I had no time to spare
With the passage of a few days, I'm settled with it.
I know my achievement.
In years to come, people will forget to inquire as to witnesses when I retell this story…at least those that don't know me.
Now, let me tell you about the 300 game I bowled a month ago.
Sadly there were no witnesses, but…
