by Jim Veary

Stu Riesling hated this game!  His drive on the first tee had gone wildly off course and slammed into a grove of trees lining the fairway.  He’d be lucky to get out of this with a double bogey.  God!  He hated this game.

The third hole was a disaster.  Teeing off from a bluff that dropped precipitously down to the fairway, Reisling came across the top of the ball and it dribbled down the slope, lost in a tangled mat of weeds and brush.

“You wanna mulligan that Stu?” his partner, Fred Hastings quipped.  The rest of the foursome snickered.  God!  He hated this game.

By the sixteenth hole he was eighteen over par and steaming.  “I hate this game,” he muttered to no-one in particular.

“Yep!  We all do, pal,” Hastings answered, “but we play it anyway.”

The seventeenth was a par three surrounded by sand traps.  The rest of the foursome pulled up short, avoiding the forest of hazards that sat ominously around the green.  Riesling hoped to do the same and, maybe, get out of this hole with a par.
He chose a three iron and moved up to the ball.  His swing felt good and the solid thunk of the ball felt even better.

“Whoa!”  someone exclaimed behind him.

Reisling looked up in time to see the ball hit the green, bounce twice, then roll straight into the hole.

“I’ll be damned!” Hastings said. “A hole in one!”

Reisling smiled.  God!  He loved this game!

Jim:  I am a retired Fire Chief, now living in Lake Havasu Az, and a member of the Lake Havasu city writers group.  Contact Jim. Blog at