In 1986 my dad took me to play me first round of golf. My bag had a 3-wood, 7-iron and a putter. All of which belonged to my dad, and all were cut down with a hack-saw, tapped with electrical tape. Yellow Electrical Tape... It's like it was yesterday. Thousands of shots later, from sunsets at the par 3 to sunrise at Pebble Beach... he and I banged 'em. Never an ace.... Well once, but it wasn't the hole we were playing. Not even one of our playing partners had had a Hole in One. It got to the point where we knew it would never happen... as a joke, I would tell my pops, "I don't fire at the flag-stick on par 3's when you're not around... just in case I hole out. You're gonna be there." Well today at about 9:30am, I had the chance to call Papi, who is 82 and just received he second Covid vaccination yesterday. "I got good news and bad news Pops..." "The bad news is you aren't here.... The good news is your boy just aced a 170 yard, par 3 with an 8-iron. A blade... just like the ones you used to have... just like the ones you cut down for me." Papi, you weren't there today playing, but face-timing you as I walked up to the cup, and plucked out that egg.... I'll never forget that moment. I got to see your face and you got to see mine, just like I dreamed it in 1986, I just didn't realize it wasn't the Hole in One that we've been chasing this whole time; it's been all the memories in between. Thank you Papi, Thank you Golf, and thank you Titleist.