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Four! -I mean FORE!

2007-07-26

Good morning Boys and Girls.

I've been exchanging mail with my friend Kurt Maddox over at tBlog - or here at tBlog, depending on where you're reading this - and somehow my love of golf came up in our conversation.

Eventually I bragged, as usual, when, inevitably, it got to that point in the discourse, that I am a professional golfer.

This is a true statement - the fact that I am the worst professional golfer in the history of the game notwithstanding.

Here's the story:

For years I'd entered a hole-in-one contest sponsored by the Children's Miracle Network at Beaumont Hospital in my hometown of Royal Oak, Michigan. Over the course of one Friday night, Saturday and Sunday morning each summer, you'd buy three balls for two bucks and take your shot at a little one hundred and fifteen yard hole. I usually spent about twenty bucks and got about thirty shots at the hole.

In 1996, I got a hole-in-one in the preliminaries and made the finals which constituted one shot at a 185 yard hole Sunday evening. The finals always included 20 people who'd either made an ace during the prelims or had survived a closest-to-the-pin playoff to make up the rest of the field.

That first year I made the finals there were seventeen holes-in-one in the preliminaries over the course of the three days, which sounds like a lot, but consider that there are hundreds of thousands of shots attempted, and frankly, even golfers with marginal skills can "zero in" when hitting the same relatively short shot time after time.

Anyway, that year, my shot in the finals sucked. I missed the green altogether.

Fast forward to 1999. In the preliminaries, my second shot at the short hole rattled the flag and dropped. Cool. I'd be in the finals again, and I'd only spent two bucks!

Something I didn't find out till I arrived for the finals late Sunday afternoon, was that because my hole-in-one was the first of the weekend that year, I'd go last in the finals.

It was the Sunday of the PGA championship the year Sergio Garcia busted onto the scene and was chasing Tiger Woods on the back nine. He hit this amazing shot from the stump of a tree which he then ran after to see how it ended up, jumping at the crest of the hill to get a better look. I remember a bunch of us standing around and watching in the clubhouse of the little driving range as we waited for our own competition to begin and laughing our butts off at Sergio's joyful child-like enthusiasm. I was reminded of it this past weekend when they re-showed the clip during the coverage of the British Open while Sergio was leading.

So. I was the last to hit. A hole in one here? Two million bucks.

There's a guy with a video camera out on the green for the underwriting insurance company who puts up the money. They'll only pay up if there's tangible proof someone actually gets an ace. Additionally, there are a couple of young girls in shorts and t-shirts with a long tape measure and clipboard, who record the exact distance from the hole each shot ends up, this being important because of the prize structure.

No one expects a hole-in-one and I certainly had no illusions about getting one. On the other hand, I wanted to hit a good solid shot and not embarrass myself, especially since mine would be the final shot of the event. After all, hundreds of people turn out for the finals, and I knew more than a handful of of them, plus my son and a good friend had come to cheer me on.

My name was announced. The closest shot to that point was eighteen feet plus a few inches away from the hole. I'd debated between hitting a full four iron and choking up on a five wood and playing a little fade - a left to right shot I'm fairly good at controlling. I'd decided not to make the choice till just before I hit when I'd check the wind.

It was still as can be. The four iron. Then I looked at my son. He seemed a little surprised I'd chosen the iron. I changed my mind, and took a couple of half practice swings with the five wood.

I took aim the the guy holding the camera who stood about ten feet left of the pin and I put my best relaxed swing on the ball.

Right away everyone started cheering and clapping. The ball would certainly end up on the green, or at least close to it; that was obvious. It was a high shot and as it reached its apex it had turned just perfectly and now, we could all see it would be very close to the hole if the distance was right.

It landed perhaps ten feet in front of the green and took a soft bounce where, upon hitting the short grass it tracked right toward the hole.

We could hear the camera man and the two girls out there suddenly screaming, and instantly, my heart started pounding.

The pin was back right on the green and the camera man shouted "Oh my GOD!"




It didn't go in. I saw the video tape. It ran over the right edge of the hole and settled two feet, ten inches away.




I took the five thousand dollar first prize gladly, as I was in the middle of expanding our home at the time and the money would be more than helpful.

When a person accepts any cash whatsoever, or goods exceeding three hundred and fifty dollars in value for any sort of accomplishment having anything whatsoever to do with swinging a golf club and striking a ball, that person relinquishes their amateur status.

You may, after a period of two years, and along with a check for eight hundred dollars, request the USGA to restore you amateur status after a further two year waiting period, during which an investigation is done to make sure you haven't taken any money in the interim.

Eight hundred bucks to become an amateur again?

Hell no!

I'd rather keep the story and remain the worst professional golfer on earth - which I am.


Be good to everyone.

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Doe (2007-07-26)
Two feet, ten inches away from being a millionare.. Bummer but, woo hoo at the same time :) A professional golfer, eh? Hmmmm.

Hardcore_Pyro (2007-07-26)
If you're going to be bad at something you might as well be good at it.

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