Golfer Has Ace Every Six Years
A hole-in-one for the average amateur is a 12,000 to 1 odds according to Golf Digest.
What I am about to enlighten you with is a billion to one odds.
I had not played golf with my high school friend in six years. One day, my foursome was short one golfer and I called this friend on the hopes that he would join us. He did take part in this particular day’s round of golf and we were having a very nice day together along with my other two companions.
We were playing the Old Course of Firewheel Golf in Garland, Texas on December 1, 1995 and arrived at the 17th tee box. I took out my 6-iron and proceeded to hit my ball to this par 3 green and watched as the ball rolled into the hole.
We did high fives all around and played the final hole and proceeded to the clubhouse to notify the pro of my accomplishment. A trophy was awarded as was customary and I asked for a pen to have each player sign their name on the ball.
A couple of years later, six of my high school buddies were playing poker at my home and as normally happened the subject of golf arose. I mentioned to the group that my friend sitting next to me had witnessed an ace of mine at Firewheel. This friend had a reputation of being low-keyed, unassuming, indifferent and void of any grandeur. He promptly told the group that he had no clue to what I was talking about.
My personality is strong with a deep seeded need to tell my accomplishments and to embellish the stories with grandiose descriptions as to stimulate others to enjoy the narrative. My friend opposes this sort of personality and goes out of his way to sabotage the tale.
I told the group that I had the ball with all the names written on it and would retrieve it from my desk and be right back. When I returned with the ball my friend made immediate notice to all that the names on the ball were not legible and thus began the unproven tall tale of the mysterious ace at Firewheel.
Six years passed since the ace and during this time I never played with this friend; not because I did not want to, but because I had my own group and the opportunity never existed. For six years, I had this itch to make him admit to one and all. One day, as had happened six years prior, I was short one player and called this friend who once again accepted the invitation to fill the void.
Again, we were playing the Old Course at Firewheel and were having a grand time. We came to the 17th tee box and before anyone teed off I reminded my friend of the event that took place here six years ago. He laughed and repeated his prior comments that it never happened.
On March 6, 2001, I stepped up to the tee and took out my trusty 6-iron and once again hit the ball into the cup as six laborers yelled, “Olay” as they stopped in their work on the green-side bunker to watch us hit and witnessed my ball roll into the hole a few feet from their vantage point. I turned to my partner and told him, “That is what we did six years ago. Now, let us go and find a permanent marker this time to sign our names on the ball.”
Same golfing companion, same golf course, same hole, six years apart and the only two times we had played together in those six years. Now, that is a “Believe it, or not.”
There is more and it could have been so astonishing that the story probably would have made Reader’s Digest and Golf Digest and any other Digest that is out there.
This friend invited me to play with his group in a golf tournament the following month at Bear Creek Golf Club East Course in Dallas. We came to the seventh hole which is a par 3 and was listed as one of the “Closest to the Pin” holes with prizes awarded. My ball hit in front of the pin and rolled and rolled and finally stopped one inch in front of the cup. When we approached the green and pulled the pin, I literally popped the ball into the cup with my middle finger. Naturally, I did win the award. Oh, what a tale I could have told had it gone in!
By the way, this man with no name still does not commit to witnessing either of the two aces that he saw. You will just have to trust me. This story really happened.