But the memory is as clear,
As that moonlit night,
We played golf,
At Hampton Cove,
I believe, quite near.
We had started late,
We were the last to tee
We figured we’d get in nine,
The game was golf,
You with me,
We didn’t care what time.
I can’t remember,
What time it was,
As we, bags shouldered,
Addressed the tee,
It was just the two of us,
And Bagger made it three.
Not sure how many,
Holes we played,
As evening turned to dusk,
Don’t even think we payed.
We played thru four or five,
I think?
At six I said “I No can see,”
As I approached a pitch dark tee.
We laughed and hooted,
As the nearby owl could see,
I peeked into sheer darkness,
Without honors,
It was my turn to tee.
You had blasted one into total darkness,
That ball was never found.
I got all of mine, too.
With my trusty three wood wand.
We looked at each other laughing!
My first son and me,
There was no light left,
That night,
So we walked it in,
Together,
You and Bagger and me.
Author’s Note: A GOLF STORY
My son, Kevin, is a par golfer. I try to stay as close to the fairway as possible, so’s I’ll get invited back. My best score ever was at Cherokee in Atlanta the Thursday before my daughter’s wedding, to the love of her life. At the par five 15th hole I was holding my own, in our threesome: Mr. Wiggins president of the Club, Ray Hansen, my lifelong friend and a par golfer himself (except that day). I’ll never forget the moment. I had hit well off the tee and after a second shot, figured I’d play it water-safe and lay up with three, then cross the pond in four to the green. WHEN! Here comes, Buford, our 70 year old fore-caddy, straight at me, holding my 3 wood horizontal in outstretched hands, looking me straight in the eye, proclaiming, “We didn’t come here today to lay up.”
With Buford’s confidence/challenge (in one day, the man knew more about me than myself), I got all of that 3 wood and hit the green in three. Buford was my Bagger Vance.
Buford’s words echo in my mind to this day. I wasn’t put on this earth to lay up! Oh! and I broke 100 for the first time that day.
*5/7/2020 Written the night “Poetry on my Mind” was published! That’s Will in the photo. He started early at Robert Trent Jones Trail, Hampton Cove. Today my oldest grandchild is a scratch golfer😎