Three Mile Golf

So chapter four of Rick Reilly's book is on a Three Mile Golf hole. You start by hitting a ball off of a mountain and then three miles to a hole that is big enough to justify having to hit it three miles. To be fair the hole is big enough that even I would feel confident enough to make one out of two chip shots in. Trust me, that is saying a lot.

http://sports.yahoo.com/golf/blog/devil_ball_golf/post/The-world-s-toughest-golf-tourney-one-hole-thr?urn=golf,167776

You have to go to New Mexico to do this. It's brutally hot as you might be able to imagine.

If I played I'd probably end up in Texas or Louisiana. That is how bad my slice is. I have no idea how to rate my golf game. I hit the ball with a driver as far and as straight as I can. 1 of 4 shots probably goes sort of straight. I remember going to a driving range in New Hampshire. I actually sliced the ball over the netting on the side of the range. I never was quite able to hit the car in the middle of the range, but I tried valiantly. I'm probably ok at putting. I did win a putting contest in study hall in high school. My teacher brought in a carpet and putter and I took one shot and made it. The kid on the golf team didn't do as well. I was proud and not dumb enough to try and prove I could do it again...although I probably could have.

I've had golf lessons before. I probably forgot about those lessons as quickly as I forgot about chemistry. We did chipping and that's all I remember doing to be honest. I don't remember learning how to hit the ball straight.

One time I played golf at Steele Hill in New Hampshire. I remember playing on the first hole and trying to hit the ball over the trees and ended up either hitting the tree or landing in the water. Not sure which. Then on the next hole I had an unbelieveably straight shot that may have gone just short or just beyond the green. Either way I was thrilled I didn't hit the ball just two feet in front of me or sliced it into the woods.

The Steele Hill course was muddy, very muddy. My khaki's changed colors and my feet seemed to sink in to the ground. I wouldn't call this a real golf course. It was nine holes to be fair. I remember hating the greens at Steele Hill. I thought they were awful. Maybe it's because I was used to putting at Pirates Cove Miniature golf course. I was prepared to hit the ball off of the wood and into the hole but not prepared to hit the ball with hills on the green.

The third hole was next. Now I have to admit I hate losing a ball, whether it's a baseball, tennis ball, golf ball or soccer ball. I go crazy trying to find them. I hate losing things and don't want to have to pay to replace golf balls. So I hit three, four, five, ten shots maybe straight into a swampy area and spent probably 20 minutes trying to find them. Those shots were ground balls. Literally ground balls. I was getting frustrated, but then I whacked the ball. I was so proud of myself. It looked like it was going to be really good for me. It looked like it was either going to be on the green or just off of the green. I saw the ball and got excited, it kept going and going. I then was like, "ok ball sit down now, sit down, get down!" The ball kept going and going and going and going. It landed over the stone wall and either bounced on the street and into tennis courts or bounced into the tennis courts and then went somewhere else.

That was enough for that day.

The fourth hole at the golf course was a hole I would never play. It was way to close to cars and buildings. My lack of control would have been bad. Although with my slice I probably would have landed in the woods. I would have had to have had aimed ninety degrees to the left of the hole for the ball to have had a chance to strike a car or window or actually land on the green.

On another hole, maybe the sixth or seventh I once hit an amazing shot. It was actually during some sort of resort partner competition. Everyone seemed to be trying to go around the trees that were in the middle of the fairway. I decided that I'd be a maverick because I decided, what the heck, I'll hit the ball over the trees. Plus I figured I had nothing to lose. The person I played with wasn't relying on me to make a shot to win. I hit the ball perfectly straight and far. It went over the trees and landed on the other side. It was so perfect I thought for sure I might have gotten a hole in one. I didn't, and my partner actually said that he thought my ball got stuck in the tree so we used his shot. Whatever, I know my shot was the one that actually went over the trees. Plus I'm the story teller so the story will go how I want it to go. I am confident that I really did have the best shot on the hole. If my mom remembers she'd back me up.