I refer to my hole-in-one on the infamous 16th at Cabot Cliffs this past weekend. Since the major networks have - mysteriously - yet to run with the story, I feel compelled to give this all too brief version of the historic event.
Mission: PossibleBefore teeing off Saturday afternoon, Ben Cowan-Dewar pulled me aside with a concerned look and implored,
"I really need your help. I promised my children that someone would make a hole-in-one on Cliffs during its opening week and so far nothing. The big guns like the two-time Masters champ and JPN have failed. I need you to come through big-time, okay?" Knowing that the Cliffs features six par 3s and seeing that the wind was down, I selflessly agreed to help out my mate. Roll the clock forward a few hours and we arrive at the sixteenth tee some 110 feet above the Gulf of St. Lawrence. To that point, I had not lived up to my promise even though there had been flashes of brilliance: I had hit one of the five par 3 greens in regulation.
Scanning the scene from the elevated tee I winced, noticing that the hole was located in the most treacherous back left location, inaccessible to mortals. My heart sank. Would Santa not make a delivery this year?!
Terrified yet determined, I bore down, trying to steel my nerves and fragile swing, which commenced in the usual manner with elbows and knees simultaneously thrusting in four different directions. Later, I reflected that my motion must have resembled that of another great athlete at his peak: Secretariat bolting out of the gate at Belmont.
At the top of the swing, DREAD! I suddenly realized that the set of irons that I keep at Cabot are 3 degrees more upright than those I have played for the past nine months at home. Quick thinking and superior reflexes allowed me to compensate by flattening my left wrist to achieve the desired contact and trajectory. History (the new name for my Miura 7 iron) collided with Destiny (the new name for my Callaway ball) and BOOM! Flames appeared as the ball took off toward the stratosphere. Eventually, like Felix Baumgartner, it re-entered as a red orb and plunged toward the green, specifically the flag.
A sea breeze suddenly gusted to at least 2 mph and might well have been swirling for all I know. Had the proper allowances been made?! As the orb descended, it appeared dead on line but we saw NOTHING because the diabolically located hole was behind a knob with only the top half of the flagstick visible.
After Tom Doak and Ben slapped their shots onto the green we walked around the cliff-line to inspect the results. Only two balls were on the putting surface. What had occurred - had I, in fact, failed Ben's children?!
Ben approached the hole, looked in, and said,
"I don't believe it, it's in." As a master of emotional chicanery, he was surely kidding. As I walked toward the back edge, he emoted,
"I am serious!" Still not believing, I went over and peeked into the hole. Sure enough, the Golfing Gods had rendered a most fair and just verdict!
Either our excellent caddie Tom Ryan - or perhaps me - quickly posed the question,
'Is this shot better than both Nicklaus's 1 iron at Pebble and his approach to sixteen at Augusta in '86 - or just one of them?' I humbly opined both BECAUSE the sixteenth at Cliffs is so superior to the other two holes. Who knows how history will ultimately consider these three heroic deeds?
Coore and Crenshaw's best was no match for the Ran in black. Me, surrounded by my admirers.
After a bit Ben said to Tom
"All this hard work and this happens to the world's biggest horse's ass." I think that was a reference to Secretariat but I never got clarification from Ben. Laudations were quickly delivered from all corners of the golfing world. Ever a keen student of the game, and unaware that my own equipment somehow poorly fits me, Tom D. asked the next morning,
"Was that the only good iron you hit all day?" Given what a pretty spot the green enjoys, I truly hope that Ben and Mike don't erect a 20 foot (or perhaps 30 foot would be better?) statue on the green where the heroic deed was done.
Look at the relief itched on Ben's face now that the promise to his family has been fulfilled. Tom Doak is smiling,
in realization that he will be drinking for free all night. This hole-in-one proudly joins my others at places like the 9
th at Pinehurst No. 2 and Mid-Ocean’s 13th. Great architects do indeed produce holes that allow talent to shine through is not an inaccurate conclusion!
My playing companions, the glorious setting, the daunting hole and the fulfillment for Ben's children make it extra special, if not downright momentous and folklore-ish.
And now you have the rest of the story...
Best,