Archive for the 'Danny Caruso' Category

[Written in the spring of 2008, when my son Danny was 12 years old.]

Though somewhat chilly, yesterday was a beautiful Sunday morning in Boulder. I was standing on the tee box of hole #3 at BCC’s Fowler Course.  As I clutched my sand wedge, I watched as the golf ball travel through the air. It bounced just in front of the green, hopped onto it and began to roll.  It was clear immediately that it was heading toward the hole. Good pace Right line. Could it be?  I didn’t utter a word.  Neither did my playing partner, who was also standing on the tee box with a club in his hand.  I’m sure he also noticed the promising line and pace.

A slight slope from left to right stood between the ball and the pin. We watched the ball follow this slope and steer itself at the cup. Click.  We heard the ball hit the stick gently and drop into the hole. Hole-in-One. We jumped up, yelled, high-fived and even hugged one another.

The ball is sitting in my golf ball collection in my home office. It sits right next to my three eagles, including the 165 yard 5 Iron I sunk at Black Wolf Run to win $50 from my friend Lynn Refer in 1995. I decorated yesterday’s ball with a blue marker; it reads “April 29, 2008. Danny Caruso. Hole 3 at BCC. 85 Yards. 6 Iron.”

I’ve long wondered what it would feel like to get a hole in one.  I am still wondering.  As I said, I had a sand wedge in my hand.  Yet I wrote 6 Iron on the ball.   The 6-Iron belonged to my  playing partner—my son Danny Caruso–and when his ball fell into the hole, I was every bit as excited as if it was my hole-in-one.

Congratulations D-Boy. I hope some day, when I get a hole-in-one, you are standing on the tee box with me.

Post-amble: One Hole Later

Now I’m standing on the 4th tee box, a 175 yard par 3. My shot was not bad, just to the right of the green.  One hole after his hole-in-one, Danny readies his 3-wood and swings away.

It is a nice shot but heading toward a tree’s outstretched branches, which stretch over the left side of fairway. Leaves have not yet blossomed so there is mostly air where his ball is headed. If he gets through cleanly, he will be in the fairway just about 15 yards from the green.

Instead, it squarely hits a branch and ricochets hard left into the deep rough.

Oh how the world looks to a kid on the eve of being a teenager. The prior hole’s improbable eagle was long forgotten. With disdain in his voice, he reacts to the bad bounce: “I never get a break.”