Par is Easy

By Mitch Kaplan

The golf ball lifted into a high arc. It was not only flying high - it was traveling straight. Like a hungry hawk in search of ground-dwelling prey, the dimpled sphere hovered above the green's tightly manicured surface before diving to earth. It landed just to the right of the pin. Holy cow!  A perfect tee shot.

     Not. The sucker didn't stick. It rolled. It rolled off the green, over a hillock and out of sight, heading towards a row of links-side houses as if it held an invitation to lunch.

     "Looked good for a while," said Kate, my partner for this golf afternoon. Kate was not a serious golfer. Which made her a fine companion because she refused to allow me - a great duffer - to get too serious?

     The rolling ball seemed to have dashed any hope for my first-ever par. But - look! It had nestled settled on the mound's backside. Just a short chip shot here. (The kind I usually send halfway back up the fairway.) 

     Kate espied a nearby comfort station. She excused herself.

     I whacked gently at the ball. This time the shot WAS perfect. It stopped less than two feet from the hole. I ran onto the green.  I tapped the ball home. "A par!"  I yelped as Kate emerged. "A legitimate par!"

     She answered with a teasing and skeptical look. Then it struck me.

     Here I was at world-famous Hilton Head.

     I'd finally shot a par.

     I had no witnesses.