Beautiful Fall Day

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JC snapped a photo of me on the 11th hole at Harvest Hill.

That’s Chippy in my hands, and that was to be my 3rd shot on the par 4.

Chippy did his thing.

I hit that ball to less than 1 inch from the cup for a tap-in par.

I parred exactly half the holes, and it was a grand time because we golfed with a couple of kids who were in their mid-20’s.

“My birthday is next Saturday,” I told the two young guys we had just met. “How old will I be?”

“42,” the first kid said.

Made me laugh.

“You guys hit the ball like you’re golf machines,” the other kid said.

And we were certainly more consistent than the much stronger, way younger kids.

And I look much older than 42 in that photo.

“We’ve taken a lot more swings than you have,” I told the kid. “Experience helps you in this game.”

The sun was shining by the end of the round, and I faded down the stretch and bogied three of the last four holes, otherwise it would have been a truly memorable round.

Immediately following the round, JC texted the tee time for next Saturday and the opportunity to play of my birthday.

Not my 42nd one either.

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