7-26-10
Okay, so it’s not tomorrow, but here it is. We were confident that we would only give the Bogey Man four strokes on the back, but we didn’t. The back can be easier sometimes, but not this time. We shot a 42, which was also my final score on the back. Since par on the back is 35, we gave him seven strokes, but at least we got him on the front.
I would like to go back to the front to write about hole #8. I really wish C.J. had earned a par on this hole, but he missed his putt for par. His drive landed his ball up against the fence that borders #13. From there he made a fantastic save/approach that actually landed on the green, but rolled off just a bit on the left side. His birdie putt from off the green came up short, and he almost made that putt for par, but it was not meant to be.
I, however, made my best par save of the summer.
C.J. said we needed to scramble after out tee shots, so scramble we did, but not the tournament type of scramble, the “do your best to get a good score after a lousy tee shot” kind. My tee shot landed in the wash that cuts through #8 and #13. I used my pitching wedge to escape, and I did, but my ball almost ended up in the ditch that runs along the left side. It ended up on the bumpy, not so completely grassy area. It is part dirt, part grass, and my ball ended up on a flat piece of grass among the dirt spots there. I used my gap wedge from there. On this three-tiered green, the hole was on the middle tier. My ball ended up four or five feet away on the right side. It was a downhill putt that moved left pretty quickly, but I found the right line and the right speed. I was so proud of that par save. One lousy tee shot, one semi-decent out, one sweet approach from a mediocre lie, and one good putt can a fun par make. With C.J. out of town in Albuquerque, and Bruce still on vacation, I happened to see Don (last name) in Safeway on Friday. We had talked about playing together, and this was the perfect opportunity. We agreed to meet the next morning at 7:30 for eighteen holes.
I know Don because I taught his two sons years ago. How many years ago? Well, they are both grown up and on their own now. Travis is married, and they have two children, and Shawn just got a job here in New Mexico as a rescue helicopter pilot. Don is a proud parent and grandfather. He showed me pictures of his grandchildren on his Blackberry on the #1 tee.
I did not know Don played golf until two or three years ago when he hollered at me from another fairway. I did not recognize him at all. He had lost 110 pounds! He changed his diet completely, and he looks happy and healthy to this day. Don and I did play in one tournament together, the club championship last fall. I wrote about that tournament in my golf diary-part 7. It seemed silly to both of us that we ended up playing together for the first time in a tournament when we should have called each other to play instead. We were happy to be grouped together, though, I remember.
Well, now we can say we played together, and it was a wonderful round. We played with Bill who works for Conoco-Phillips. Bill is from Nigeria, and he has only played golf for a year and a half. He would get a bogey on a hole, and then he would get a 12 or more on another hole. On #7, he put three balls over the fence before Don finally told him to aim for the trees on the left side of the fairway instead. That helped. He swung a beauty right up the middle after that. The three that went over the fence were very consistent; they all flew on nearly the same trajectory.
After the front nine, I was not sure if Don and I were competing (in a friendly way, of course). Since this was the first time we played together, and not in a tournament, I didn’t know if he and I would pay attention to our scores. I was wrong. Of course we paid attention. I know I was. It wasn’t until the round was over, though, that I discovered how much he cared.
He shot a 43 on the front, and I shot a 46 with two double bogeys. I was paying attention to the score so much that I put the number 41 in my head for the back nine. I thought if I could shoot a 41 I would be able to catch him.
I shot a 40. I was making up strokes one at a time as we went along, but it was slow-going. After the first four holes, I had made up zero strokes. In the next four holes, I made up the three that had separated us on the front. When it came down to the last hole, I had no idea if I had caught him. Don’t pay attention to the score, remember, and things go much better.
On #18, I chose to go for the #3 fairway to get a clear shot to the green. It worked, but I still hit a tree. The flag was tucked on the back right side, and I pushed my approach, so it struck the cottonwood that guards the green on the far left side. I had a pitch from about fifty yards, and I was below the hole. I was also on the left side of the cart path, closer to hole #3 than hole #18. I made a smooth pitch with my Wishon sand wedge from there, though. Practicing pitches like this from around the practice green at Pinon Hills really helped.
The chipping green down by the driving range was surrounded by range balls, so I pitched them away from the green towards the range. I made big swings with my sand wedge, and the swings that were the best were the ones where my head stayed still. It was this kind of pitch that landed my ball on the green. I had a downhill putt, though, and it was a scary one. I barely tapped it, and my ball ended up even with the hole on the left side. I made that putt for a bogey. Don ended with a double bogey.
After I entered my score, an 86, I walked out to see Don and Bill one more time before we left. It was then that I found out that Don did care about the score. He said something like, “You beat me by one stroke, one stinking stroke!” I paraphrased that, but he was bummed with his final double bogey.
It was a fun round. If I had lost by one stroke, I would have still enjoyed it, and that’s pretty much the way Don felt, too. It was an enjoyable round, a beautiful sunny round on a summer Saturday.
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