A hole in one is the best part of any golfer’s life. It is perfection, you can’t do better. It’s a grand slam, a full court shot, an ace, but rarer than all of them. My hole in one came 3 months ago. And I lied about it.
I was out golfing for my dad’s birthday. To understand my motivation you need to understand my father. He is the most competitive man on the planet, without any of the skills that could make him successful in a competition. I think this is why he likes golf so much, because I am just as bad as he is at it. Every time we hit the links it is a coin toss who will win. On his birthday I wanted him to have fun and the only way competitive people can have fun is if the contest is close. So I decided to take a few lessons before his big day in order to be able to at least attempt to add or subtract a few strokes depending on where we were on the scorecard.
We were on the fourth hole and it was already a naturally close game. We played equally in mediocrity, but he was up 2 strokes on me. I made the mistake of telling him I went for lessons and I guess a two stroke lead was enough for him to ensure me I wasted my money, how he never once took a lesson and is trouncing me, maybe he should be an instructor, he may be turning 50 but he’s playing like a 5 year old Tiger. Just nonsense. Though I feel compelled to say my dad is a good guy, it’s like how some people you don’t want to be around them when they’re gambling or writing, my dad becomes a different person when he plays games. Not even just playing, I remember at one of my young little league games where the coaches underhand pitched to us, we didn’t keep score, but that didn’t stop him from accusing the coach of balking me. And my coach was his friend from work. He was yelling from the bleachers, but then once the game ended they walked to their cars and he acted like nothing happened.
Back to the golf course. We’re moving along and he’s barely winning. Like not even a consistent win. He wins some holes and so do I. But he is up on me and he starts saying how he wished he asked for someone better to come with him on his birthday so that it could be a real match. Normally I let these comments go because, as I say, it’s not really him talking, but enough was enough. I decided to give him the game he wanted. My dad has terrible eyesight so he makes us use these bright pink balls when we play so that we can trace our drives easily. It’s actually a really good system and saves us a lot of time, but I had an idea. I told him I ran out of pinks. He offered me his but I leant into the idea that I’m terrible and would probably lose his ball in the water hazard and of course he agreed. I also reinforced the idea that the pinks are for him and I can see my shots just fine. So I just used a spare white one and hit away. This was a risky movie because only 40% of my drives look like they’re going anywhere, but it was the 17th and I was running out of time. I got into my stance, took a few practice strokes, tuned out my dad saying “your stroke is giving me a stroke” and went for it. A truly beautiful shot that landed just outside the green. I turned to look at father’s bewildered countenance and cooly suggested that that may have been a hole in one.
The plan was to drop him off at his ball then slyly drop one of mine in the hole and pretend it was there the whole time. But he urged to see my shot for himself. I panicked, how would I pull this off. We pulled up to the green and I did a 180 with the vehicle putting the driver’s side closest to the hole. I leapt out, squatted down at number 17 and dropped my ball in as I was pretending to fish it out. “I did it, I did it” I cheered. I’m not a very good actor but the emotions that ran through me as a result of my father’s shattering pride was genuine. I was so happy to make him feel so small. He was forced to shake my hand, grudgingly, and it was the best. This tied our scores and set us up for the most competitive hole of the day. My dad did everything he could to drive the ball into the hole at the end of the 500 yard hole. Of course he didn’t but he was able to birdie. I hit for par and he won. He gloated all the way back to the car and was so pleased with himself, not only did he win, but he beat the guy who shot a hole in one. But as soon as we left the property, he congratulated me and told me how proud of me he was that I made that shot. And that’s why I lied, for that guy I wanted to give him a good birthday present. But he doesn’t really use the internet so if you happen to see him I totally made that shot.
