The Golf Lesson

"Do you golf, Mike?" Jim asked.

"Not much, but..." I began to tell him three stories I never tire of telling.

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Story #1: Except for a few birds, the course was quiet. It was a great morning for golf: no one ahead to slow me down, no one behind to rush me forward. I looked down the hill. The fifth hole of the nine-hole, par 3 course lay below and one hundred and seventy yards away. The flag hung limp in the still air. A small knoll at the front of the green hid the cup. I checked my score card again. It was definitely a good day. After four holes, I was only six over par.

I grabbed my seven iron, approached the tee, placed my ball, glanced at the flag, and positioned myself. After another look at the flag, I drew my club back and swung. The iron whistled through the air, struck the ball at an angle, and drove it spinning through the air. It started toward the hole, but the spin and aerodynamics took control. I watched helplessly as the ball sliced to the right, away from the hole, and head for the tall grass that separated the fairway from the forest. It slipped between the blades of grass, disappeared, bounced off something hard, and reappeared.

I stood in shock. The ball bounced across the fairway, jumped over a sand trap, leaped onto the green, and headed toward the flag. It disappeared behind the small knoll. I waited for it to reappear. It didn't.

"That must be close to the hole." I thought.

I grabbed my clubs, walked down the hill, and approached the green. My eyes remained focused on the area around the flag. My ball was nowhere in sight, but the cup was still hidden by the knoll. I climbed to the top of the knoll. The cup came into view, but my ball didn't. The green was empty. I didn't think the ball rolled fast enough to go over the edge of the green, but I walked around to the back anyway. My ball wasn't there. I turned and look at the cup again. "It couldn't have?" My heart began to pound as I walked closer to the hole. There was my ball, nestled close to the pin at the bottom of the cup.

It remains the only hole-in-one I ever got. There were no witnesses to my feat.

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Story #2: Jack and I stood at the tee-off to the first hole of an eighteen-hole, par-three course. My best friend took his first shot and came up short of the green. I teed off and watched my ball land a little short and slightly to the right of the green.

Jack's second shot put him on the green, a few feet from the hole. I grabbed my wedge, stood by my ball, and judged the distance. My light swing lifted the ball from the grass in a smooth arc toward the green. It hit the rough at the edge of the green, bounced, rolled smoothly toward the flag, and plopped into the cup for a birdie.

On the second hole, it happened again. I chipped my second shot into the hole. After double-bogeying the third hole, I chipped another one in on the fourth - three birdies in four holes.

My game returned to normal. A double-bogey was something to get excited about. At the eighteenth hole, my first shot placed the ball at the edge of the green. My second shot bounced the ball across the green and into the cup for my fourth birdie of the day.

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Story #3: Don, my neighbor, looked at my ball. "You can take a free drop from there."

"You're right, Don, but the ground is level. I think I'll just shoot it from here."

I swung and lifted the ball in a high arc. I silently cursed. The ball appeared to be headed deep into the brush behind the green. I watched as it climbed higher and lose momentum in the wind. At the highest point in its arc, it lost speed, and dropped straight into the hole, rattling the flag as it did.

Don was shocked. "In my more than forty years of golfing, I have never seen anyone drop a ball into the hole like that. What a shot! It's a birdie too."

I smiled. "Thanks, Don."

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I finished the last story. Jim looked at me. "You sound too good for me to play."

"Actually, I suck at golf." I smiled. "I just told you the best."

What I didn't talk about were all the balls that landed in the woods and didn't bounce out. I didn't mention the trophy I won for the most lost balls in one round. Jim doesn't know I lost the hole-in-one ball in the woods on my next shot, and he doesn't know that the day I got four birdies, my final score was twenty-two over par.

If someone asks me about my life, I used to tell them I had to move seven times between provinces, countries, and states. I would talk about my wife, who died too young, the numerous jobs that ended before I thought they would, and then whine about my money hardships.

It was all negative.

Now I tell the golf story. I loved and married a wonderful woman and shared the rest of her life with her. In the process, we created two children. I moved seven times and got to meet wonderful people and experience things that most can only dream about. I got remarried to an amazing woman and we share a beautiful life together.


Life is hard - life is good. It's how you tell the story.


Now "that" is a golf lesson!

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The Golf Lesson
by Michael T. Smith

Michael lives and works in Caldwell, Idaho with his beautiful wife Ginny. He writes in his spare time and is currently working on a collection of his stories to be called, "From My Heart to Yours." To read more of Michael's stories go to: http://ourecho.com/biography-353-Michael-Timothy-Smith.shtml#stories