Loyal readers of this blog have been following, intermittently, my golf progress.  Well, yesterday, I achieved the goal of my golfing career–a hole-in-one.

I was playing the 8th at Southfield Golf Club.  I had been playing a pretty poor and erratic round–but I was trialing for the Oxford team, so I needed to shoot a decent score.  I pulled out a 7-iron on the 152-yard par-3, hoping to get back on track.  My friend Ben hit first, and pulled it a little short and right, so I took a little extra club.

As soon as the ball left the club, I knew it was all over the flag.  It’s perhaps my favorite feeling in golf.  A great swing sends the ball right for the hole, and the seven or eight seconds that the ball hangs in the air is pure joy–you know you did everything right, you know you’ll be happy with the result, and all you can do is wait.

The hole was behind a bunker, though, so we didn’t see it land.  I thought that maybe it flew over the green.  Ben said, “no, that ball’s going to be DIRTY.”  We approach the green and I don’t see the ball.  Of course, I think, the ball flew over the hole!  But there’s a pitch-mark in front of the hole.  Ben responds, “it’s in.  Plan a dance.  Cause you know it’s in.”  But I am certain it’s not.

We approach the hole.

The ball is sitting at the bottom of the cup.

The British hate emotion, but now is no time for the stiff upper lip.  I throw my putter in the air, run a lap around the green, and trade a flying high-five with Ben.  I pull out the ball, having saved my round and making this the most unforgettable golfing day I’ve had.

I’ve been smiling ever since.

This is why I love sports.

ERB