My swing is still very temperamental, but I now have a lot more enjoyment when I play golf. This is primarily due to the aspects of golf that have nothing to do with the sport at all. There have been three miraculous events that I have experienced throughout my golfing career, and these miracles have left me yearning for more. Thus, every time I play a round of golf, I always prepare myself to witness the next potential miracle. The Miracle of Golf is what keeps me grounded.
Number 1
The first Miracle of Golf was also the first time I ever assaulted anybody. It was during my junior year of high school, and the entire golf team was on a bus heading to a match. Now there was one kid, whose name I won’t mention, who was sitting in the seat across the aisle from me. This particular guy loved to talk trash and enjoyed making our lives hell.
So as he kept going on and on about whoever’s mom and whoever’s sister, he finally began talking about my very own mother.
“Hey, stop talking about my mom like that,” I said, giving him fair warning.
Obviously, a kid like this doesn’t just stop when asked. So when the next word came out of his mouth, I was suddenly overcome by some external power and my open hand went flying involuntarily across his face.
I slapped the captain of the golf team. “You just opened up a whole new can of worms,” he said. I still have no idea what that means, and I have yet to be attacked by worms. But I'll let you know when that happens.
Anyway, everyone on the bus began laughing, and in one fell swoop, I managed to quiet him for the rest of the bus ride (and much of the season as well). I mark this event as the first Miracle of Golf.
Number 2
The second miracle that I witnessed is known as “The Shadow Incident.” Let me paint you the scene.
I was teed up at the beautiful (not really) and scenic (nope) 11th hole of world-renowned (still nope) Valleybrook Country Club, owned by Ron Jaworski himself (yes). As I lined up my driver to send one down the center of this Par 5 fairway, my friend Mike decided it would be funny to thwart my efforts with the shadow of his own golf club. Five yards behind the tee box, Mike obnoxiously waved his club back and forth to cause its shadow to come across my ball several times.
“Mike, stop. I can’t concentrate,” I said.
He did not stop, and boy I am glad he didn’t. If Mike had stopped waving his damn shadow over my ball, this miracle would have never occurred. I would have hit a 300-yard bomb straight down the fairway. Mike would have gone up and hit a mediocre drive. It would have been any other day at the links.
But this day was different.
As Mike took one last swipe at my ball with his golf club’s shadow, the ball fell off the tee.
We looked at each other. The world went fuzzy. Five seconds of silence felt like an eternity. Our looks of astonishment quickly became uncontrollable laughter. My golf ball was knocked off the tee by Mike’s shadow, and no, there was no wind to be felt. Tell me that’s not a miracle.
Number 3
Now I can’t remember if the third miracle occurred on the same day, but it was phenomenal nonetheless. The scene was very similar to the previous one, except that I was teed up at the 12th hole, a short par three.
I waited for the player ahead of us to finish his putt and walk off the green before starting my pre-shot routine. I took two practice swings with my 4-iron and settled my golf club gently behind the ball.
As I went into my backswing, I felt great. I could tell that this was going to be a beautiful shot that would land softly on the green and roll promisingly towards the cup. That was until Mike decided it was in everybody’s best interest to yell, “PENIS!”
What happened then, I do not really recall, but my laughter during my downswing caused the ball to fly wildly off target. It was hooking left. Hard left. Right where the player ahead of us was putting his clubs into his golf cart.
Both of us stared up at the ball, still laughing uncontrollably and unable to yell “fore.”
We both thought the same thing. There’s no possible way that ball actually hits him. None at all. And that was when the third miracle happened.
The ball took a quick bounce off the cart path, and on its way up, it hit the man straight in the ass. We were speechless. Never before had I felt happiness, amazement, and fear all at the same time.
The man angrily turned around and yelled at us from 200 yards away. In what seemed like the funniest voice at that time, he cried, “Hey! Cut that out!” Then he continued to pack his clubs, took my ball, and threw it into the woods. And that, my friends, concludes the retelling of the third miracle of golf.
It has been a few years since those indescribable, once-in-a-lifetime events occurred. But let me assure you that golf is a game that can never be fully understood, and I will forever be on the lookout for that next….(dramatic pause)…. Miracle of Golf.
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