|
|
|
The sky is bright blue with no clouds in sight, the sun is beating down on my neck and there isn’t enough wind to make a blade of grass sway. I drive my tee into the box of Minakwa’s fourth hole and take my practice swing. I hit a towering nine iron that bounces once on the green and into the cup.
I wish.
Instead, I was playing one of the worst rounds I’ve ever played. It was cloudy with a steady breeze. I was pouting my way around ten holes at Rivers Edge Golf Club in Manvel, N.D. before I stepped up to our 11th hole of the day. With a brisk breeze at my back, I pulled out my seven iron without even really thinking for the 152-yard par three hole. I made a bad swing and bladed the crap out of the ball. It zipped over the grass and into the sand trap in front of the green, but, to my surprise, it kicked out of the sand and onto the green where it rolled into the hole.
Instantly, ten holes of misery became the greatest moment of my golf career.
Who cares if I didn’t hit my dream shot for my ace, though? There’s no video on YouTube or photos of me sulking around the course before that magical moment. All there is is a trophy with a big “1” on it and my hole-in-one ball in the middle. All there is is a clipping of the newspaper with the information from my perfect shot.
And do you know what that trophy and newspaper-clipping mean?
Bragging rights.
So, don't be afraid to brag a little bit. Send in your hole-in-one stories and photos.
The sky is bright blue with no clouds in sight, the sun is beating down on my neck and there isn’t enough wind to make a blade of grass sway. I drive my tee into the box of Minakwa’s fourth hole and take my practice swing. I hit a towering nine iron that bounces once on the green and into the cup.
I wish.
Instead, I was playing one of the worst rounds I’ve ever played. It was cloudy with a steady breeze. I was pouting my way around ten holes at Rivers Edge Golf Club in Manvel, N.D. before I stepped up to our 11th hole of the day. With a brisk breeze at my back, I pulled out my seven iron without even really thinking for the 152-yard par three hole. I made a bad swing and bladed the crap out of the ball. It zipped over the grass and into the sand trap in front of the green, but, to my surprise, it kicked out of the sand and onto the green where it rolled into the hole.
Instantly, ten holes of misery became the greatest moment of my golf career.
Who cares if I didn’t hit my dream shot for my ace, though? There’s no video on YouTube or photos of me sulking around the course before that magical moment. All there is is a trophy with a big “1” on it and my hole-in-one ball in the middle. All there is is a clipping of the newspaper with the information from my perfect shot.
And do you know what that trophy and newspaper-clipping mean?
Bragging rights.
So, don't be afraid to brag a little bit. Send in your hole-in-one stories and photos.
