A Plaque for Ned
Spent the weekend golfing and trying to decompress from what has been a fast-paced year. No sense in complaining - everyone I know is in the same boat - too much work, kids baseball games, high gas prices, an election where nobody knows what to do, blah,blah,blah,blah, blah.
Anyway at the golf course in Titusville PA, with a ton of friends all around reminding me of my personal deficiencies, and a lot of beer flowing, I stepped up to hit at a short par 3. I worried about nothing all weekend except where my ball might be, or what club I should hit, but there at the tee stand stood a plaque:
This hole is dedicated to the memory of Ned Carter from his loving children.
There wasn't any way that I could express my heartfelt feelings about such a plaque to the other guys in my foursome - I would have been laughed off the tee box (I was laughed off after hitting my shot - but that's another story) - anyway - I thought about good old Ned and what had to be his deep love of golf. I thought about his children missing him so much that they called the course where he played and asked how they can memorialize him.
I didn't know Ned, obviously, but I was golfing with a lot of guys just like him - guys who love their families, love their friends, and like to hack it up for relaxation.
I couldn't help but think of Ned's kids beautiful gesture. I thought that Ned might be watching over me and perhaps laughing at my drive. Yet a strange thing happened as I got to my ball. I stood over it knowing that I chip like a slow-monkey and in my mind, I said - 'Help me out here, Ned.'
I chipped to within 6 feet of the hole and although I putt like a slow-monkey, I made the shot for a par on the hole.
There aren't a lot of coincidences that I believe - I very rarely am able to get up and down as those who like golf are prone to say, but I did it.
Or we did it - me, Ned, and some kids that miss their old man.
Anyway at the golf course in Titusville PA, with a ton of friends all around reminding me of my personal deficiencies, and a lot of beer flowing, I stepped up to hit at a short par 3. I worried about nothing all weekend except where my ball might be, or what club I should hit, but there at the tee stand stood a plaque:
This hole is dedicated to the memory of Ned Carter from his loving children.
There wasn't any way that I could express my heartfelt feelings about such a plaque to the other guys in my foursome - I would have been laughed off the tee box (I was laughed off after hitting my shot - but that's another story) - anyway - I thought about good old Ned and what had to be his deep love of golf. I thought about his children missing him so much that they called the course where he played and asked how they can memorialize him.
I didn't know Ned, obviously, but I was golfing with a lot of guys just like him - guys who love their families, love their friends, and like to hack it up for relaxation.
I couldn't help but think of Ned's kids beautiful gesture. I thought that Ned might be watching over me and perhaps laughing at my drive. Yet a strange thing happened as I got to my ball. I stood over it knowing that I chip like a slow-monkey and in my mind, I said - 'Help me out here, Ned.'
I chipped to within 6 feet of the hole and although I putt like a slow-monkey, I made the shot for a par on the hole.
There aren't a lot of coincidences that I believe - I very rarely am able to get up and down as those who like golf are prone to say, but I did it.
Or we did it - me, Ned, and some kids that miss their old man.
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