It was a pleasant May afternoon at Calerin Golf Club. I stood behind my ball on the teeing ground of hole #14, a par-3 that was playing about 150 yards. There was no significant wind. In my hands, I held the 8-iron I had pulled from my bag just moments earlier. In the distance, the flag stick stood near the right centre of the green. Behind it, a strand of trees formed a dark backdrop, while in front, three bunkers loomed ominously.
I picked an intermediate target just in front of my ball and took my stance accordingly. Next, a practice swing. It felt good. “Inch closer to the ball and repeat,” I thought. And so, I did. The whoosh of the club, the brushing of the grass, the crack of the ball being struck – it all sounded good. The ball flew high and was on a bee-line for the flag stick. There was a bounce, or perhaps two – it was hard to tell as the green was slightly elevated, the hole not visible. “Looks pretty good,” I told my playing partners, and they agreed.
One of my partners threatened the flag stick himself, while the other missed the green to the right. Driving up to the green, I spotted a lone ball on the putting surface, twelve feet right of the hole. “If I hit the stick, that could be mine,” I thought. But my partner's ball was nowhere to be seen. It was not on the green and not off the back, where I imagined it might have come to a stop. So I checked the hole, and sure enough, resting against the flag stick at the bottom of the cup was a ball – my ball.
It was a hole in one! I picked the ball out of the hole, raised my arms in the air and let out a celebratory “yes!” It was strange though – a little forced. I always imagined that getting a hole in one would produce unbridled elation. But my feeling at that moment was something more subtle; it was more like quiet satisfaction than sheer joy. And rather than feeling disbelief over what had just happened, I felt like everything was simply as it should be. It was nice – just different than I could have envisioned before that moment.
There was more to this round, though the hole in one was the obvious highlight. In addition to that eagle, I registered a pair of birdies. The first came on hole #4, a par-5, after I stuck my third shot close. I had an even closer birdie attempt on the previous hole, but was robbed when the ball broke sharply. The second birdie was on hole #17, a par-4, after another approach came to rest close and below the hole.
Making the ace more rewarding was the fact that I had suffered a few blowup holes beforehand. I recorded triple-bogeys on holes #2 and #7. Hole #2 was a baby par-3, measuring just 108 yards. I flew the green with my sand wedge, landing in some fescue. From there, I plunked one into a bunker, then barely emerged from the sand with my third shot. My fourth was a chip that rolled well past the hole. Two putts ended the debacle.
But that's nothing compared to the disaster on hole #9, a 398-yard par-4, where I took a score of 11. My drive finished one yard in the right rough, 150 yards from the green. I pulled an 8-iron slightly, finishing flag high in a greenside bunker. The pin was on the other side of the putting surface, so I had the entire green to work with. I hit one fat, staying in the bunker. Then I hit one thin, rolling through the green into another bunker! Next I hit one fat, staying in the bunker. Then I hit one thin, rolling through the green and into yet another bunker! Not to disrupt the pattern, I hit one fat, staying in the bunker. Then I hit one thin, rolling through the green again! Thankfully, I was no longer in a bunker. My ninth shot was a chip, followed by two putts. SERENITY NOW!
When I started golfing, I had no trouble getting out of greenside bunkers. Now the fear of God grips me every time I find myself in that situation, because I know I can't hit a proper bunker shot to save my life! I've tried different things, but nothing works. Typically, I try to hit the sand a couple inches behind the ball, but end up getting all ball instead. When I focus on avoiding that, I hit sand, but advance the ball just a yard or two, remaining in the bunker. I've tried hinging the wrists more, opening the club face, changing my stance, etc. If there's one thing I desperately need to fix at this point, it's the bunker shot. Aargh!
Even with the disastrous 11 on hole #9, I finished with a score of 94. Had I made just a double-bogey on that hole, it would have been a round of 89. That's how I choose to look at it, so I won't worry too much.
Score: 94
Putts: 33
Fairways: 5
Greens: 6
Penalties: 0
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