Kudos to Bill
We set our weekly tee time for 7 a.m.
Given the hot weather it seemed like a grand idea, but at 6:15 one of the four bowed out because Saturday night went a bit long.
Ah well, we’d go with three...
...but luck was on our side.
When we got to the tee there was a man standing there.
“This is Bill,” Scott said. “He’s going to be our 4th.”
I must be honest that my first thought was, “he’s an old guy. I hope he doesn’t hold us up.”
Bill stepped to the tee and answered my question with a straight, long drive.
He shot par on the first two holes and then nearly aced the par 3, settling for a birdie.
Meanwhile, the early start was killing me. My drives were off, my putting was horrendous.
“The old guy is kicking our asses,” Pops said.
On hole 4 we had to wait before we hit. That’s when Bill stunned us.
“I’m 87 years old. Was born in 1931.”
We stood staring in disbelief as he hit another shot down the middle and fairly long.
“Are you kidding me?” I asked.
“That’s my dream right there,” Pops said.
We played 18 holes with Bill, and he hit from the far tees with us.
I’m not sure if I beat him.
“I didn’t count ‘em,” he said, as the round ended.
(I wish I hadn’t counted them).
Bill did get a little tired over the last few holes, but I truly only saw him hit 2 or 3 shots poorly.
He laughed at us as we made fun of one another. He told us a little about his life.
“I didn’t even start playing until I retired,” he said.
“He’s the better version of how you play,” Pops said. “Down the middle. No surprises.”
I didn’t do a whole lot of that yesterday...
...and if Bill had counted them I’m thinking he would’ve finished right around 90...
...which would’ve beat both me and Pops.
God Bless him!
I hope he has another 20 years to swing it.
He even fist-bumped us at the end of the round.
Cool guy.
Given the hot weather it seemed like a grand idea, but at 6:15 one of the four bowed out because Saturday night went a bit long.
Ah well, we’d go with three...
...but luck was on our side.
When we got to the tee there was a man standing there.
“This is Bill,” Scott said. “He’s going to be our 4th.”
I must be honest that my first thought was, “he’s an old guy. I hope he doesn’t hold us up.”
Bill stepped to the tee and answered my question with a straight, long drive.
He shot par on the first two holes and then nearly aced the par 3, settling for a birdie.
Meanwhile, the early start was killing me. My drives were off, my putting was horrendous.
“The old guy is kicking our asses,” Pops said.
On hole 4 we had to wait before we hit. That’s when Bill stunned us.
“I’m 87 years old. Was born in 1931.”
We stood staring in disbelief as he hit another shot down the middle and fairly long.
“Are you kidding me?” I asked.
“That’s my dream right there,” Pops said.
We played 18 holes with Bill, and he hit from the far tees with us.
I’m not sure if I beat him.
“I didn’t count ‘em,” he said, as the round ended.
(I wish I hadn’t counted them).
Bill did get a little tired over the last few holes, but I truly only saw him hit 2 or 3 shots poorly.
He laughed at us as we made fun of one another. He told us a little about his life.
“I didn’t even start playing until I retired,” he said.
“He’s the better version of how you play,” Pops said. “Down the middle. No surprises.”
I didn’t do a whole lot of that yesterday...
...and if Bill had counted them I’m thinking he would’ve finished right around 90...
...which would’ve beat both me and Pops.
God Bless him!
I hope he has another 20 years to swing it.
He even fist-bumped us at the end of the round.
Cool guy.
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