Hanging out at the miniature golf course really paid off. When I was in my freshman and sophomore years at university, each weekend was pretty consistent. I had already been in the Navy and my partying time was far behind me. So, most Fridays looked like every other one. It would start off with a trip to the comic book store—long defunct and closed now—followed by a round at Gator Golf.
Here’s the important part: it typically didn’t cost us anything. It didn’t take us long before we had every bend of fake grass memorized and knew exactly where and how hard to hit the ball to get a hole-in-one. Such a triumph netted us a free game when we did it on the 18th and final hole.
After golf, we’d try to catch a midnight movie. Then, it was a trip to Taco Bell—another location now defunct and closed—for a 7-layer burrito with no tomatoes, a small Pepsi, and cinnamon twists. Then off to our respective domiciles for a few hours of sleep before work or studies.
Of all those places, Gator Golf is still open over 20 years later. I always think back to those Friday nights whenever I pass by it. https://www.gatorgolffayetteville.net/ But now the spousal unit and I have other memories associated with it.
I have played a few rounds of golf during my life. My son has only played one round with me. Ever since that first outing, he has retired. One weekend, my wife and I decided to take our 4-year-old son and 7-year-old daughter to Gator Golf for a fun family event. We walked up the hill to the first hole. My wife went first followed by my son.
It was an amazing shot!! His very first swing of a golf club ended up as a hole-in-one!! He had no interest in the rest of the game, which my wife and I spent taking turns keeping him from climbing on the obstacles. I’m surprised we didn’t find him surfing one of the alligators.
It took me 14 more years before I grabbed a hole-in-one on the golf course. My company was a sponsor at an Autism Involves Me [https://www.aimnwa.org/] charity tournament back in 2018. It was a shotgun start, so our third hole of the morning was the 17th hole. Ironically, I now live in a house overlooking that same hole.
When we pulled up, I looked over and read the sign: A hole-in-one wins a $30,000 car. The hole was a down and up with the pin standing around 160 yards away. I looked at my crew for the day and said, “I better use my driver.”
I took the first shot. With care and precision, I lined it up and then hit the snot out of it. The ball did not go straight. We could see the pin from the tee box but not the hole as it lay behind a little knoll. The ball traveled high but at a 45-degree angle from the hole to the right. It hit the trunk of a mighty oak and bounced back toward the green.
Since it was a charity event, the two-putt rule was in effect. We had one on the green. No one else got on the green. But when we drove up, no little round, dimpled sphere could be found. We looked off the back of the hole since I had struck it so hard. Couldn’t find it.
John walked over and looked in the hole. “What were you hitting”
“A Bridgestone number three,” I answered.
He pointed his putter. “It’s in the hole.”
My first instinct was to turn to the youth pastor of the church my family attended, who I had invited as my guest for the day. “Sorry,” I said. “I’m going to cuss.”
I looked at John. “Are you shitting me?”
The pastor looked at me and shrugged. “I don’t know that you could have said anything else.”
I walked over and looked in the hole. There it lay. A hole-in-one. My first ever. And only one once since then. Unlike my son, I continued the game. But I probably should have gone straight back to the clubhouse because my game went downhill fast.
A couple months later after the insurance company finally settled with the tournament organizers, I went to the dealership and picked up my brand-new Nissan Rogue with leather interior and Bose sound system. It had every feature that came with it except for the moon roof.
Speaking of my son: he loves to tell the story of how his father won a car by hitting a hole-in-one at a golf tournament. However, he always keeps me humble by beginning the tale, “My dad won a car at golf. And he sucks at it.”
See. All those Friday nights at the miniature golf course paid off. Have a wonderful day. Take care.
