My Crazy Golf Story: Two Aces in a Row
Alright, let me tell you about this day on the golf course. It still feels unreal when I think back on it. Just one of those days where things clicked in a way they never had before, and probably never will again. I wasn’t even playing particularly well up to that point, just enjoying the walk, you know?
We got to the 7th hole. It’s a little par 3, maybe 150 yards that day, pin tucked back right. I pulled out my 7-iron, felt like the right club. Took my usual swing, nothing special really. Made good contact, the ball flight was nice, a little fade towards the flag. It landed soft, just short of the hole, took one hop, and disappeared. Just like that. Gone.
My buddies started yelling before I even processed it. An ace! My first ever! High fives all around, absolute buzz going through the group. I mean, you always hope, but you never really expect it to happen. Felt amazing. I picked the ball out of the cup, trying to act cool, but inside I was just buzzing.
So, we’re riding that high, laughing and joking as we head to the next hole. Wouldn’t you know it, the 8th is another par 3. This one was shorter, downhill, playing about 135 yards. Because of the adrenaline, maybe, I decided to club down to a gentle 9-iron.
I stepped up, still kinda giddy from the 7th. Took a smooth swing again. Watched the ball sail towards the green. It landed pin high, maybe ten feet left of the hole, and started rolling. Just kept trickling… trickling… right towards the cup. And then, plink. It dropped in.
You Cannot Be Serious
Silence for a second. Then chaos. My friends were losing their minds. I just stood there, staring. Did that really happen? Two holes-in-one. Back-to-back. It was completely ridiculous. Honestly, it felt more surreal than exciting at that exact moment. Like, this doesn’t happen in real life, right?
- Hole 7: Ace with a 7-iron.
- Hole 8: Ace with a 9-iron.
We all walked down to the green, and sure enough, there was my ball nestled at the bottom of the cup. Picking that second one out felt like I was in a dream. The rest of the round? A complete blur. I couldn’t focus on a single shot after that. How could you?
Finished the round, signed the card, and headed straight to the clubhouse bar – had to buy the traditional drinks, times two! Telling the story to people in the clubhouse, most just looked at me like I was making it up. Can’t blame them, really. It sounds like a tall tale.
But it happened. That day, for two swings, everything was perfect. Haven’t come close since, naturally. But I’ve got the scorecards, the memories, and a story that still makes me shake my head. Just pure, dumb luck, I guess. But what a day.
