About ten years ago, I was playing the best round of my life with my brother and his friend. Normally, I’m a 12 handicap, but every part of my game was on fire that day. I even holed out from 130 yards on the first hole. By the time we hit the back nine, I was one under par and on pace to shatter my previous best score of 77.
My brother, however, was having a rough day. Still recovering from a party the night before, he was way off his usual game and not enjoying himself. Watching me play so well probably made it worse for him.
Then, as we were about to start the back nine, my brother decided that we were done and walked off the course. Since he was my ride, I had no choice but to leave with him. I still think about what could have been if I had finished that round.
In high school, I was captain of my team and consistently shot well enough to qualify for the state tournament, but I never made it. My senior year, I shot 76 at regionals and got into a playoff for the last spot. My opponent was way off the fairway and chipped his shot hard, but the pin got in the way, and he went to state. I found out years later that my 76 was the lowest score in state history not to qualify.
Flippa said:
In high school, I was captain of my team and consistently shot well enough to qualify for the state tournament, but I never made it. My senior year, I shot 76 at regionals and got into a playoff for the last spot. My opponent was way off the fairway and chipped his shot hard, but the pin got in the way, and he went to state. I found out years later that my 76 was the lowest score in state history not to qualify.
Jeez, that’s brutal! Did someone offer to kick you in the shin too, just for good measure?