Lately I've been playing mostly with hubby on trips and weekends. My handicap is trending toward an 18.7, due to traveling to unfamiliar courses, which always adds on strokes, and soggy weather. It's just more of a challenge to play on wet fairways that haven't gotten mowed and hail-pelted greens that haven't been rolled for a week.
My driver and woods are in a slump and my wedges still need work, though I finally started using this 58-degree wedge hubby bought me last year. It's perfect for high lob shots over bunkers and mounded rough. At least my irons have been somewhat consistent, so over the July 4th holiday weekend, hubby and I played the local course where most of the par 3s are 139 yards and in from the red tees.
While I got stymied by the overgrown fairways and matted rough, on one of the aforesaid par 3s, I got reacquainted with that feeling that every golfer lives for -- that moment when you realize you've got a sure-fire, tap-in for birdie:
Walking down to the green to mark your ball, you feel a combination of joy and relief. It's a short-lived moment that reminds you what golf is all about.
If you look closely at the photo above, you can see where my ball landed, a few inches left of the ball. Hubby said my ball landed at that mark and actually bounced toward the hole, and if the green hadn't been so wet, it might have rolled all the way into the hole. Ah well, I already had my first hole-in-one years ago. These days, the way I've been playing, getting that close is close enough.
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