I have always considered myself to be a friend’s friend, someone who could share in another’s successes with as much enthusiasm as the actual achiever. And it’s a really good gig, sharing the joys of others.
Your son just graduated from the university with a 4.0 in chemical engineering and has been accepted at all three of his top choices for medical school. Congratulations! He must be a really wonderful son, and obviously a very bright young man.
Your granddaughter scored seven goals in her team’s first soccer game in the city’s under-7 league. I can only imagine how proud you must be. She is obviously very talented and I agree with you that it is only a matter of time before the coaches from most of the Big XII programs will be coming around.
And wasn’t it just great that you got that huge bonus from your company for being the top salesman in the whole shebang, shattering every previous achievement on record. I know you’ll enjoy your new Beamer rag top, and I know that Hummer will make pulling your new boat to the lake a piece of cake. I really think it’s neat that you told them you didn’t want that promotion to headquarters because the kids are settled in school and you would hate to leave your church and our neighborhood.
Although a couple of those examples are based on fact, with only the names changed to protect the innocent, the last one is a combination of two or three separate incidents. But in each and every case, I take great pleasure in sharing the accomplishments of my friends and their families.
So, I was very excited last Wednesday when I received a telephone call while returning from meeting my daughter and grandson for lunch in Kansas City. I could immediately tell from the tone of voice I detected that something big was happening in my friend Jonagan’s world. But I couldn’t imagine what. He has a new grandson, but that’s not real news any more. “What’s going on?” I wondered as I rolled up 1-29 on the way back to Maryville.
“Come on out and I’ll treat you to the biggest Scotch you ever had,” he blurted. Whoa! The Glenn I know doesn’t usually spring for The Glenlivet.
“I made a hole-in-one!” he blurted.
Now since we usually play together, I immediately asked if he had been playing alone — or with Betty, who he normally claims to have been his partner when he has a particularly good round. “Nope, I was playing with Mike (Graham) and he saw the whole thing,” he screamed, and I could see in my mind the tears of ecstasy rolling down his cheeks. “I hit my wedge on No. 6 (maybe 110 yards across the water at the Maryville Country Club) and it came down short of the pin, bounced twice, hit the stick and dropped in the cup.”
So, now the story telling would begin. Like a 12-pound bass. Or a nine-pound grandson, it would get embellished, enhanced, with each repeating. Such is life, however, when sharing the joys of others.
I didn’t have the nerve to tell him that the odds of an average golfer’s making a hole-in-one are 12,000-to-1, and heck, I’d seen him take at least that many swings in the last two-and-a-half seasons. He was overdue.
Or what about Curt Hocker, another amateur from Kappa, Ill., who scored five — count ’em, five — in one week? Seven in one year, including five on par 4s.
Jonagan can probably relate better to Chuck Eakins, a 64-year-old from Ava, Mo., who’d been playing 42 years before acing a 150-yarder with a five wood.
Quite a difference from Laura Ybarra, however. She was out to play her first ever round and lashed her very first shot right into the hole, 67 yards away, with a 7 iron.
Now Glenn hits right-handed, while I swing from the left side, and after his splendid shot last week, the pressure is on me to match his feat. Especially since I read about one Rich Hoper. He has scored holes-in-one playing both right-handed and left-handed. Showoff.
The all-time top hole-in-one hitter is Mancil Davis. Jonagan is now only 50 shy of his record. Davis made the first of his 51 aces when he was 11 years old and has banged out one with every club in his bag except his pitching wedge and his putter. Perhaps he needs to visit Mr. Jonagan, whose hit came with his wedge.
The longest “1” ever recorded: A 517-yard straight away shot by Mike Crean at the Green Valley Ranch course in Denver. Second is one from Larry Bruce on a 480-yard par-5 dogleg in Hope, Ark.
In all seriousness, I was so happy for my friend and golfing partner. All my good wishes went out to him. Really they did. He had achieved the ultimate — an ace, a hole-in-one. Every golfer’s dream.
And I didn’t snicker — out loud, at least — even one time when he struggled through our next round together.
