Unexpectedly, the denizens of Southern Pines woke to snow flurries this morning despite temperatures around 40f.
Having birdied the 18th at Dormie yesterday, I was contemplating retirement à la Jones in 1930 and certainly had no intention of playing.
Yet, snow is a powerful siren.
Ultimately, I decided to have a go and quickly checked with a couple of locals to see if they had similar interest. Alas, not.
My girlfriend of several years piped up, 'If you aren’t going to be mired with the usual miscreants, I’ll tag along.’
Fifteen minutes later, we stood on the first tee of the Royal & Ancient Southern Pines, where the snow was happily gaining momentum. Away we went.
And here is where the day took a drastic turn.
Half way down the first fairway, beaming from ear to ear, something snapped.
I turned to her and inquired politely while mysteriously sober, ‘Will you marry me?’
WELL! The screech – it could only be likened to that of an eagle spotting a helpless (though adorable) goat trapped on a hillside. Talons out, she attacked. I cowered, ultimately gobbled up in her embrace.
Eventually freeing myself, I squinted up to the first tee through the flakes to make sure we weren’t holding anyway else up. A quick lecture on golf course decorum and on we went.
As she prattled on about this and that, I carefully gauged what allowances were required for the ball skidding on the first bounce on the next several slick greens.
Thankfully, the snow abated by the 6th tee, freeing me to focus on what really matters in life – your golf score!
For the record, we were the only people on the course. My fiancée (already a hinder!) slowed progress to the point it took us a full 2 hours and 7 minutes to walk a mere eighteen.
Today’s morning round will live long in my memory, in part because of a couple of nifty punch 4 irons as well as for a great girl having taken pity and mercifully saying YES.
Best,