We Played!!!
The tee box for the first hole was comical.
“I can’t even find a place to take a practice swing,” Scott said.
There were standing mud puddles in some places. We were all dressed in long pants and hoodies.
We were all smiling.
“Seven and a half months,” I said. “I haven’t hit a golf ball in more than 200 days.”
I took two swings to loosen up. My back ached, and I grimaced. Then I set the ball on the tee, took one more practice swing, and then hit it.
Straight down the middle, on a high arc. I heard Pops laugh behind me.
“Do you actually need something to be fractured to not be able to do that?”
It didn’t all go perfectly.
I bogied a lot of holes that should’ve been pars.
Pops and Mike hit some true bombs that made me realize that I need to stay straight down the middle if I want to beat them.
I beat them on the front 9.
Spent a few holes in the tank on the backside.
Pops win this one.
By the end of the round I was covered in mud and I’d lost a couple of balls to straight up plugs.
I chipped one in.
I made a few long putts.
I shook three hands after we finished up on 18.
Most importantly, I looked around a few times at the beauty of the best of the holes.
Good swings.
Great friends.
“It needs to dry up,” Mike said.
“Ya’ think?”
“You know what I was thinking?” Mike asked.
“What’s that?”
“We only have about 4 months left before the snow flies.”
I didn’t think about that.
For four hours, I didn’t think about anything work-related, house-related, or Trump-related.
Cold, wet and perfect.
“I can’t even find a place to take a practice swing,” Scott said.
There were standing mud puddles in some places. We were all dressed in long pants and hoodies.
We were all smiling.
“Seven and a half months,” I said. “I haven’t hit a golf ball in more than 200 days.”
I took two swings to loosen up. My back ached, and I grimaced. Then I set the ball on the tee, took one more practice swing, and then hit it.
Straight down the middle, on a high arc. I heard Pops laugh behind me.
“Do you actually need something to be fractured to not be able to do that?”
It didn’t all go perfectly.
I bogied a lot of holes that should’ve been pars.
Pops and Mike hit some true bombs that made me realize that I need to stay straight down the middle if I want to beat them.
I beat them on the front 9.
Spent a few holes in the tank on the backside.
Pops win this one.
By the end of the round I was covered in mud and I’d lost a couple of balls to straight up plugs.
I chipped one in.
I made a few long putts.
I shook three hands after we finished up on 18.
Most importantly, I looked around a few times at the beauty of the best of the holes.
Good swings.
Great friends.
“It needs to dry up,” Mike said.
“Ya’ think?”
“You know what I was thinking?” Mike asked.
“What’s that?”
“We only have about 4 months left before the snow flies.”
I didn’t think about that.
For four hours, I didn’t think about anything work-related, house-related, or Trump-related.
Cold, wet and perfect.
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