I recently went golfing for the second time. Pitch and putt, so not real golf, but a lot closer to real golf than the miniature version I normally play. I am happy to report I obtained my all-time-high(low?)-score of 88! Oh yeah.
I went golfing with my brother, “Dan”. He actually plays golf; he has his own clubs and everything. I had to rent clubs and buy balls just to play. I had rookie written all over me.
We approached the tee but a group of three young guys got there first, so we had to wait our turn. Danny speculated that they must be pretty good because all three of them were using very expensive clubs; definitely not the rent-a-clubs the pro shop had to offer.
Unfortunately, my brother’s speculations couldn’t have been more wrong. The first guy took three swings just to get the ball in the general direction of the hole. The other two weren’t that bad… but all-in-all, I think I was better. And that’s saying a lot!
Always the gentleman, Danny offered to let me go first. Always the asshole, I accused him of offering to let me go first just so that he could laugh at me for doing such a poor job.
He went first to “show me how it’s done”. When it was my turn, he asked me “Do you even know how to hold a club?!”. I demonstrated my grip and said “Yes??”. I guess it was okay because he didn’t give me a club holding lesson.
I teed off and actually did pretty good: I hit the ball and it went in the general direction of the hole. My miniature golfing skills came in handy once I managed to reach the green. I did the first hole in 4 strokes! We caught up to the next group in no time. The other group drove my brother crazy. Not only did they have $500 clubs they didn’t know how to use, but also, they were idiots.
Every time they were on the green they would leave the flag in the hole, so that when they actually came close to getting the ball in, it would hit the peg and bounce out. Danny would constantly complain “Take the pin out! Yeesh!” Around hole 15, when Danny was putting (and I’d grown weary of him complaining), I yelled, pretty loud “Don’t worry, I’ll take the flag out of the hole when your ball gets close!!!”. Sometimes, I lack subtlety. At hole 16, the other group started taking the flag out.
Now, I’m not saying I was super pro or anything. In fact, at hole 5, the pin was 85 yards straight ahead and I hit the ball 2 yards to the right. Right into some grass, beside a tree, a really bad shot. I was pretty upset.
Danny said “Go again.” And I was like “REALLY!!?!?!!?!?” So I ran up to the ball, grabbed it and dashed back to the tee, super happy and excited and bouncing around like a rabbit on speed. The group behind us watched the entire charade. You’re welcome. Then he tells me that he wasn’t just being nice, it’s called a “Mulligan” and you’re allowed one per game. “A mulligan, eh?” I asked. “Yeah, it’s Scottish… for ‘nobody saw that, right?'”. Good enough for me.
Danny was making par left, right and centre. I was getting 7’s left, right and centre… but Danny said we max out at 6 strokes, so that’s what we wrote down on the score sheet. My brother was really hoping for a birdie and he was getting pretty discouraged. But then he teed off, got the ball on the green and putted right into the hole. A hole in two – success!! He was pretty pleased; he did his happy dance.
I was a bit jealous. Every time I thought I was doing well, I’d get cocky and then I’d hit a 7. I just wanted to make par, just once. Danny had already done his happy dance twice and asked what mine would look like. I said “You won’t see it until I make par. So, I guess, you won’t see it.” But then, at hole 16, I made par. I was really excited.
The group behind us really got a show (again) as I bounced around the green, swinging my club, yelling “I made par!!!!”. Danny asked “Is that your happy dance?” I’m not sure if he was confused because my actions did not resemble any form of dance that he was familiar with, or if he was being sarcastic. I answered his question regardless: “Oh yeah it is!”.
At the next hole, I did it again. I MADE PAR!!!
I was pretty freaking excited again. The group behind us thought we were ridiculous. But, it’s better to have fun than take it too seriously, right? At the next hole, I earned the first go (whoever got the lowest score at the previous hole goes first. That’s called earning it. There were a few times during the game that Danny let me go first, even though he earned the first go. That’s called pity.) Regardless, I was feeling pretty confident. I got on the green within two strokes. I was sure I was going to get another par. And then I got cocky and hit a 7. Son of a bitch!
Big thanks to EliseArt for providing the illustrations.