One Shot Away

Anyone who happened to stumble upon my column in which I enlightened readers about my flawless golf game are already quite aware that golf is not my sport. Nevertheless, on Mother's Day last Sunday, when my mom begged me to play a quick round with her, I couldn't refuse. I mean seriously, I had already forgotten to get her a card.

Unlike my last round in which I was constantly reminded that the objective of the game is to "put the ball in the hole" and "the sand trap is not my friend," I was sure this time would be different. And I was right.

After checking out the pro shop, getting a few balls, and meeting the owner, my mom and I set out to the first hole. This par 3 was a short, slight dogleg right, with a countless number of obstacles I would have to overcome in order to achieve a respectable score. To determine who went first, an epic best-of-three rock, paper, scissor match took place in which I was ultimately victorious. I then lined up my ball, squared my shoulders, and was ready to give it a go. Next, I proceeded to do what many golfers have never done. I proceeded to do the unthinkable. Yes, you guessed it — a hole in one.

As I struck the ball, it felt good, but I was unaware that it would be that good. When my orange-colored golf ball dropped into the hole, a stream of emotions raced through my body. At first, I was shocked, stunned, and surprised that someone of my caliber could accomplish such a feat. Next, I was proud and suddenly Mother's Day became Son's Day as I paraded around the green holding the ball in the air like I had just defeated Tiger Woods in a one-hole playoff at the U.S. Open. My over-the-top celebration caused men, women, and children of all ages on neighboring holes to instantly stop what they were doing and observe me in my glory. I even got a thumbs up from the group behind us who were eager to try to match my conquest.

Next, thanks to my beloved Facebook mobile, I set my status as "Bobby Campbell just got a hole in one." Thank God for the new revisions to Facebook or else I would have had no choice but to use the word "is" in my status creating some sort of grammatical nightmare such as "Bobby Campbell is hole in one." But that's neither here nor there.

As I was saying before I was interrupted by Facebook's greatness, excitement continued to overtake my body as I felt like I was on the top of the world. Suddenly, my last round of golf didn't matter so much and before I knew it, I was getting cocky and started acting more self-centered than Mike Jones. Who? Mike Jones. Who? Mike Jones. What a talented rapper.

Although I was ecstatic, I knew I still had 17 holes to play.

The rest of my miniature golf round was subpar as I shot a mediocre 40 on 18 holes. Wait, you knew I was talking about mini-golf this whole time, right?