I made a good call back on Father’s Day, deciding that rainy lunchtime did not look promising enough for us to continue onto step three of our plan: Having George Two meet us our annual nine-hole round of golf together.
I told my wonderful daughter Elisabeth and her terrific boyfriend George Three that Sunday would be a fantastic make-up date for me because my dear wife Karen would be on day two of her annual Girls Getaway trip.
When she green-lighted from her beloved and his dad, I made the 8 a.m. tee time.
When they arrived, I had our carts ready. It was as pleasant a morning as you can ask for on this hilly nine-holer 15 miles northwest of Syracuse in upstate New York.
We let a single player with a pull-cart play through us. Good call, George Three. He zipped on down the fairway.
Click on any gallery photo for a description. Click and hold on the bottom right photo in any gallery for an enlarged slide show.
We all advanced the ball off the tee box. And off we went, chatting and happy to be out in the sunshine and 70º F morning.
George Two pitched one in from a mound off the side of No. 7.
George Three hit great tee shots, long and straight and very high, once he decided to stick with his five-iron.
Elisabeth hit her hybrid from the fairway really well.
On one hole, Elisabeth, George Two and I all hit into the same greenside sand trap. We all took more than one shot to get out of it. We laughed at each other and ourselves. Yay, golf!
Shortly after, I had them wave hello to Karen, and texted her the picture above.
On the par-three No. 8, I hit the shot that keeps me coming back. I actually said “Hole-in-one” as my five-wood flew true and straight not only toward the green some 180 yards out, but toward the flag.
“It has a chance,” George Three said.
Yes, that Bridgestone looked sweet as it hit near the pin, bounced, and rolled just a short way past.
It didn’t look quite so close as we pulled up to the green. I had rolled some dozen feet past the hole.
The divot in the green where the ball first hit was pretty close to the hole, though, a couple of feet left and too far.
Yeah, I’ll take it.
I judged too much slope and break on the downhill putt and did not get my birdie. I did sink the comebacker for par.
The post-round breakfast we shared in Baldwinsville, at a nice little joint called The Cottage, was delicious and relaxing.
This tradition rocks.
What two-generation family summer traditions do you cherish, and why? Do you add a meal to your family events, and do you like it to be breakfast even if it’s getting close to lunch? If you’re a golfer, how close have you come to a hole-in-one, what were the circumstances, and did you make the birdie putt?