38 Years In Between

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In 1983, I lived and worked in California. There was a golf course just down the road from where we lived in Mill Valley and I would grab my clubs after work and head down there to play.

I was young and strong and on one fine day I golfed 18 perfect holes.

My score was 40 on the front 9 and 39 on the back.

Since then?

I’ve been anywhere between 84 and 105, settling mostly in the 90’s.

I have always wondered what might happen if I could make everything work and have been chasing that forever.

When I drive and chip well I can’t putt. When I can putt I can’t hit an iron.

It’s a fickle-f****ng game!

On Sunday we were back at our usual course. A course that I love everything about except the high price tag. We pulled up on hole 3 where we were to shotgun start and I said, “Honey, I’m home,” as we pulled up.

Hit my first drive down the middle. Bogied the opening hole even though I was still shaking cobwebs. 

I had three straight pars and then I birdied a hole.

🤔 

I was putting the ball exactly where I wanted to.

“You’re on fire,” Pops said.

I didn’t want to look at the card. I kept thinking about a couple of real golfers I’ve played with over the last month or two.

They seemed to concentrate on every shot.

The pars were piling up but more importantly I was only getting bogies on the ‘bad’ holes.

On hole 13 I put my second shot into a sand trap 145 yards away.

Uh-oh.

My third shot on the par 5 ended up in the center of the green and then I made a long putt for the birdie. 

I pumped my fist like I was Tiger!

Pops retrieved my ball from the hole and despite the fact that he was 6 inches away from me, he threw it.

Hit me in the mouth!

I didn’t care!!

I’ll spare you the rest of the highlights but on the second last hole I missed a 3’ putt for par.

Then I birdied the last hole with a putt from the fringe.

It was finally over.

I was relieved that I didn’t have to concentrate anymore.

Added up the strokes

80! A 39 and a 41. I missed tying the round of my life by one lousy swing!

I thought of the missed putt on the second last hole, but didn’t hang onto that disappointment for long.

I was pretty fired up when I got home.

“38 years ago I shot a 79. Today I shot an 80.”

“Good for you,” Kathy said. “Next time you have a score like that you’ll be 94.”

(She spoils me with her support)

I slipped off to sleep on Sunday night, replaying every single shot.

Twice.

I’ve golfed thousands of times and only ever did it right twice!

I’m not even sure I want to play to start next week.

Maybe I should retire.

Ah hell no!

I can’t wait to get back out there.

When I’m 94 I intend on doing it again.

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