True story about a hole in one. In the early nineties I was working at National Golf Club, then a new course on the Mediterranean coast of Turkey. Now the area is a big golf resort, with over a dozen courses and a multitude of hotels, restaurants, bars and discos, but back then there was only our course and a couple of hotels.
There was an Irish golf pro working there, David Kearney, who besides lessons to tourists, was initiating into golf a few of the local youths who were employed at the club. One such young man, Mustafa, worked full time shining shoes, which business in those days could be slow. The course wasn't always busy, so on slow days he would solicit the other staff for shoe shines. Every time one of us walked by in the course of the day he would ask, "Shine?" It may have been the only word he knew in English, and it eventually became like white noise in the background.
Mustafa started taking golf lessons from David, and for several months worked away on the driving range. The club rulle was that beginners weren't allowed on the golf course proper until they had the pro's approval that their game and knowledge of the rules and etiquette was to a sufficient level. David and I used to go out to play most afternoons, and for months Mustafa was pestering David to join us, and David always politely refusing, saying words to the effect of, "You're not ready. You need to be able to get the ball in the air. "
Finally one evening, when the course was fairly empty, David relented and let Mustafa joined us, and he was fairly trembling with excitement at his first ever round. The first hole, a narrow par five, Mustafa took about 15 strokes, or so many nobody kept count. All well and normal.
We come to the second hole, a par 3 over water to a peninsula green, playing about 140 yards. Mustafa smooths an 8-iron in there, one hop and into the hole.
Second hole of golf he ever played.