I started swinging golf clubs with my dad when he found the game when I was 8 years old. The first round I ever played was my birthday present for my 13th birthday. I used to step to every hit imagining greatness. After years of self-Induced punishment I have learned to enjoy every moment whether the results are good or not so good. Sometimes the swing is sweet and the flight true, sometimes it isn’t. At 42, I just enjoy the break from a stressful occupation. I was with my normal 3 golfing buddies on hole 17 at Timberwood golf course in Ray, MI. I didn’t play much last summer and this was the first round of 2025. This par 3 is a level 173 yds to the pin with the green set tight in a surround of Michigan maples.. I was getting tired so I selected my Titelist 5 iron remembering what a pro told me years ago: “Better to swing too much club easy than not enough club too hard.” I was 2nd on the box.

A little habit of mine is to use the “Pro v1” printed on the ball to point to the flag. This time I took just a slightly longer pause to ensure the logo was truly lined up with the flag. With zero wind and a front center pin location I figured a slight draw and an easy swing should set me up for a birdie chance if everything came together. When I struck the ball it was one of those swings you don’t feel anything. “That should be ok” was the only thing I said. A lot of times I stop watching it if I know it will be easy to find my ball. This time, I decided to see how close to the pin I was going end up for my birdie chance. The ball checked up softly on 3 bounces and released gently to the hole. From 173 yards away the ball looks pretty small, but there was no doubt in my mind when that tiny speck disappeared at the feet of that yellow flag. I dropped my club and held up my arms in disbelief. I don’t fault anyone who gets so excited on the course they yell. I’m not that guy. I looked at my friends and said,”I think I just got a hole in one.” They were less soft about it. Hugs off the box and before I knew it I was bending down to get my ball from the cup. Most of what I experienced was disbelief, but when I picked up my ball a funny thought occurred to me that I didn’t expect - “huh, I don’t have to putt.”

I expected the experience to mean little outside that moment but as word has spread the last couple days I have come to know the brotherhood in golf and how special the bond between those who have suffered on courses over the years. It is a single shot I will never forget. My only hope is that everyone experiences the satisfaction of the only perfect shot in golf. It just doesn’t get any better.