When 10 is not a good score. And when it is.

When we were young and out on the prowl, a score of 10 was like a prize, or a medal to wear on your sleeve. Today, I got a 10, and I was so mad I could spit. But then it all turned around.

And no, I wasn’t at the bar. If I could get a 7 at the bar today I’d still wear the badge. ;-0

This ten was on the par 5 6th hole on the back nine at Glen Oaks Golf Club. A course I’ve played for 7 years on a golf league. Today I had to play against Jerome, a 5 handicapper sub who just got back from 8 rounds down in Hilton Head. And I hadn’t swung a club since Thanksgiving. YIKES!

Here’s the 6th hole U_G_L_Y play by play. Driver off tee, low slicer, hits tree and slides back into a gully behind a stand of evergreens. We can buy one mulligan for $1 so I use it and put that one in the creek off the tee. Shot three from the gully lands in the evergreen roots. Drop out for four. Now in long rough, and duffed a 5 wood. I’m now lying 5 and have 265 yards to the green. Sigh. Back to the cart for a club change.

Long sip of vodka/lemonade. Repeat. Bartender Brian makes them special for us….(as in strong).

Now I am focused on getting down the fairway, and hit two lovely shots with my 3 wood. Proud, but still lying 7.

My wedge to the green for was of course a boomer, and now I have a 30 yard putt back down a very long hill. Which I almost made. Almost. It was a great effort. I was very proud of that putt. Alas, the scorecard is marked with a ten.

Can I just say? Jerome was darling. He’s a ten. He didn’t play so well either and he said it’s because he was distracted by my strawberry blonde hair and freckles. At age fifty-something, I’ll just shrug off one ten and trade it for another…

I scored tonight. A ten on a golf hole and a ten in making sure the game was about fun and friendship and a chance to feel good outside on a warm spring night.

 

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