Perfection

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 I was tired at the first tee. Wouldn’t know it. Hit it perfectly, and that was kind of how the entire 18 holes went.

By hole 4 or 5 I was supremely confident with every club that I pulled out of my bag and Chippy was amazing.

Every time I needed to nestle one up close, I did.

But the best part of the day was the sun.

Wiping away the sweat was straight up fun, and the regular 4-some was together.

Laughing at the stupid shots, fist-bumping on the really good ones.

The photo above was looking back out over 13 after freaking missing a par putt.

The round ended with enough time to move some of the big garbage to the road and throw 25 off the garage for Ollie.

He’s coming back slow, but he doesn’t know that. I had to break it to him that we can’t go 50 catches right off the bat.

And then the Yankees were on and Cole struck out one guy after another.

A glorious day.

“Can’t wait to play again,” JC said as we headed away from the course.

I thought about the days when me and Jeffy or Tom would play 45 holes…

…and then go drink beer.

That was fun too!

But napping after pasta ain’t so bad either.

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