You may not have noticed it, but last week hell froze over, a cow jumped over the moon, and Mary and I won a golf tournament.
The chances of hell freezing over and a cow jumping over the moon are more probable than Mary and I taking home the championship trophy in a couples’ golf tournament.
The tournament field is comprised of just four couples, and I believe this is the ninth year the four couples have gotten together for a mixed doubles scramble.
The group ages are about the same, ranging from 62 to 68. Our golfing skills range is a little farther apart. Some in the group are fair golfers, and others are … let’s just say, non-contenders. Mary and I are the latter.
We have never really come close to winning the traveling trophy. That is, until this year. For whatever the reasons, the golf gods shined their ever-loving light on us the day of the tournament.
The only way to explain Mary’s 20-foot birdie putt on Hole 7 was divine intervention. Keep in mind it was Hole 7, and she still was asking me which club is the putter.
To say Mary dislikes golf would be an understatement. So, for her to join me on the golf cart tells you just how much she loves me.
I’ll spare you the hole-by-hole account of our glorious triumphant victory, but I will tell you we won by four strokes. Mary and I carded a 38 on the nine-hole course.
All kidding aside, we may have won our little four couples golf outing, but the real victory is that we gathered for the outing at all.
We’re four couples who have been friends for years and now live hours apart, but we don’t let that stop us from finding a weekend we can all get together for a little golf, catching up with each other’s lives.
And this year, Mary and I get to put our names on the traveling trophy.