2013, AKA "The Year of the Joel" rolls on its merry way.
On the very same day that my brave, inspiring son, Josh, returned to work after more than a year's absence due to stomach cancer, I, outstanding golfer Joel A. Getman, nailed my first hole-in-one.
While the latter achievement pales in comparison to the former, I'd like to rhapsodize a bit more about it, if you don't mind.
Anyway, Josh has his own blog.
I know that some of you reading this have scored several holes-in-one during your golfing careers and will be less than impressed by my remarkable achievement.
To you I say, "Don't be a hater."
I also know that many of you could care less about golf and even less about anything I might accomplish on a golf course.
To you I say, "Thanks for not clogging up the golf courses and leaving open tee times for me!"
Now let me set the stage. The date was Friday, September 20, a day like any other day except that I got a hole-in-one. There was just a hint of fall in the air at the beautiful Santa Rosa Golf Club. Bright sunny skies and a slight wind made it a perfect day to play golf, especially if you were going to get a hole-in-one.
On Fridays, the Roberts group, of which I am a proud member, plays for money. There is very little cheating allowed and many of the rules of golf are strictly enforced. We all put $5.00 on the line. Four dollars goes toward a skins game and one dollar goes toward a closest-to-the-pin competition on the 16th hole, normally a 125-yard par three over water, but today playing a treacherous 138 yards over water, alligators, and a wedding party from Alabama. Whoever was going to win closest to the pin on #16 today was going to have to earn it.
I approached the 16th hole with great anticipation. If I could win the closest-to-the-pin competition, I'd win a whopping $9.00! That would be enough to put a down payment on the pitcher of beer that the winner of the competition is expected to buy for the group. In other words, it costs you $5 to get in the event; you win $9 minus the $5 which means you win $4; then you have to buy a $10 pitcher of beer which means a net loss of $6.00, which is one dollar more than the poor losers who get free beer and only lose $5.00! This is what passes for logic in the Roberts group.
But I digress. As I was saying, I eagerly anticipated my tee shot on #16; however, my heart sank as I watched playing partner Allen masterfully knock one up toward the back pin location. From the tee it looked as if Allen might only be about four feet away. That's a distance that would win on almost any Friday. Do I possibly have the skill and nerve to pull off a shot that would get inside of Allen's?
The answer to both questions is NO, but it's the Year of the Joel, so all bets are off.
I stepped up to the tee with my trusty Callaway 8-iron. This is a club with which I feel quite comfortable. I use this club often during a round, whether I'm on the fairway with target distance of about 130 yards or i'm nestled in the rough and someone is watching so I can't kick my stupid ball back out onto the fairway. I've also used this particular club when I'm foraging for lost balls in the bush and need to ward off many of the poisonous snakes that adorn the margins of our course. I'll definitely risk instant death for a chance to reclaim a Titleist ProV. This club has earned my trust and I believe the feeling is mutual.
I'm not sure what that sentence meant, but allow me to continue.
As I took my position on the tee box, I noticed the wind freshening a bit. I'm not sure why we golfers refer to the wind freshening. In every other aspect of our lives, we refer to the wind blowing harder, but in golf the wind freshens. Who am I to argue?
At any rate, with the wind freshening from left to right, I knew that a high left-handed draw would have a chance to get close to the hole. Luckily, I happen to be left-handed. I lined up left of the hole and silently prayed for three things: please let me hit this ball crisply with a draw spin; please let there be a special on pitchers of Bud Light today; please let the little hot dog place on my way home be open today.
I watch my ball fly gracefully toward the green, a beautiful high arch, and yes, it has a nice controlled draw spin, and yes, it is going to break Allen's heart, and yes, it's going to be really close to the hole, and...yes...it...rolls...gently...and...perfectly...into...the...freakin'...cup!
While Allen and Steve, my playing partners, were shouting at the thought of free beer, I immediately started thinking of my dear Ada, who had a hole-in-one during her second year of golfing and was so justifiably proud of that for the remainder of her days. Now I will finally have a plaque on the wall next to hers (Mine will be bigger of course).
Luckily, I am a member of the hole-in-one pool at my club, so I should receive a few dollars back when all the accounting is settled. Although my second prayer wasn't answered, nobody in the Roberts group went home thirsty today, that's for sure.
When I think about 2013, the Year of the Joel, I get positively giddy. This year I met a lovely, wonderful woman who is currently delusional enough to want to share my life, I lost a nice chunk of weight and got healthier in the progress, I watched one son and his family lock arms and tell cancer where it can go, I watched another son become engaged to his wonderful Audrey, I played innumerable rounds of golf on a beautiful golf course in the company of lively, interesting companions, I experienced northern Michigan in all its beauty, I watched my beloved Boston Red Sox resurrect themselves to the point where they may well compete for the World Series, and I tied Miss Ada Getman's lowest ever score on one hole with a freakin' ONE!
Ain't life grand?
J
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