A Great Round

Last Thursday, I played one of my best rounds of golf ever. I started the round with three pars (two with realistic birdie attempts even), then two sixes… (Shh!) On one hole, I chipped the ball a foot from the pin for a par; I ended up with five pars. My buddy Clarke Scholes added up the scores as we were about to tee off on the ninth hole.

"You're at a 35, shoot a par and you break forty!" Was telling me that the "Kiss of Death"? Maybe not. I hit a nice tee-shot and then a five-wood that landed on the green.

Once again, Clarke my "buddy" (now "buddy" is in quotes) told me not to pussy-foot around… "Make it close." But then he added, "But remember it's down-hill!" I nearly dropped the putter at that point.

It was then that my mind checked in to one of those transendental states. I started hearing voices of golfers-past giving advice: "Of all the birdie putts that are left short, 100% of them don't go in." Yeah, whoa… Deep.

And then another voice: "Former groundskeeper, about to become…the Masters Champion…" I shook my head and returned to the moment.

I looked at the small ridge I had to putt over, putting for birdie, for a Tim-Record 38. I saw the 20 foot putt in front of me, curving to the left, how it would roll downhill. I was determined not to let it fly past the hole... So, I tapped it about five feet. UGH. "Well, now you've done it!" Second try, for the 39: UGH! It rimmed the cup. A three-putt on the final hole? Well, I didn’t break 40, but I shot it exactly.

On the plus-side, it was a great round for me. This marks the first time that I've shot less than my age. Now that ovbiously means that I'm getting better! Or perhaps that just means I'm getting older…