Gregory J.

Golfing Dreams

Deep in the pines, on the side of a mountain, where the air is crisp and clean, lies Rangeley, Maine. Miles away from modern civilization, this little lakeside town sits among the Appalachian Mountains of Western Maine, the most peaceful place on earth. Here lies a story of a young boy and his quest for glory on the golf course.

It all began on a cool, damp August morning. This young boy, named Greg, had already been awake for over an hour, just lying in his bed thinking about the long journey in which he would soon embark. He had entered the Club championship at his home golf course, and today the tournament began. He jumped out of bed, climbed down out of his loft and crept outside. It was a picture perfect day, not a cloud in the sky. He collected his clubs, Callaway HX Tour golf balls, and his old worn-out Titleist hat, and asked his dad for a ride to the club.

A few hours later he met the three other people playing with him in the championship flight. Another player in his group was a young boy, just like himself. He had the same old Titleist hat and was near the same age. The two shook hands and introduced themselves. They flipped a tee to see who would go first, and it landed pointing directly at Greg.

Greg smoothly stepped up and teed his ball into the ground. He went through a few practice swings and then addressed the ball. He took a quick back swing and then came down on top of the ball. The ball hopped only about 100 yards and then dropped deep into the rough. “Ahhhhh… Great way to start,” he muttered sarcastically.

The other three golfers each hit solid drives right down the center. Greg picked up his bag and continued on. Eight holes later, at the turn, he had dropped a deficit of four shots behind the leader.

It only got worse. After back-to-back triple bogeys he was able to save a few pars, but he finished with an eighty-three, five shots off the pace. His dream of winning the club championship seemed to be fading away.

“How did it go?” Greg’s Mom asked as he returned to the clubhouse.

“I played awful. I don’t know if I even should have entered this,” Greg answered.

Later that night, just before Greg went up to his loft to sleep, his father shared a few words of wisdom. “Remember Greg, anything can happen. Just go out there tomorrow and have fun. That’s what the game is all about. Oh, and by the way, I noticed a few of the other players had caddies. Tomorrow I can do it for you if you’d like.”

“Sure!” Greg exclaimed, his spirits lifted for the time being. He then went to bed and had one of the best dreams he ever could have imagined. In his dream he saw himself coming down the eighteenth fairway tied with the leader. He hit his ball onto the green and made the birdie putt to win the championship.

When he awoke he thought about the dream he had experienced. After a few moments he began to realize that it was possible. He really could come from behind to win the tournament.

A few hours later, he was back on the first tee with a new sense of courage and expectation. This time he ripped a 290-yard drive down the center of the fairway.

“Have fun and good luck!” his mom shouted as he and his three opponents began to walk down the first hole.

With his dad carrying his bag, he felt like he was a professional on the PGA Tour. His father helped Greg read the greens and walk off distances. Greg started his game with a few good shots here and there, but as his round commenced he began to really heat up. Great shot after great shot came like he was the new Tiger Woods. On the eleventh teebox, just after making a fifteen-foot birdie putt on the previous hole, he decided to count up his score and compare it to the leader’s. As he went over the numbers on the scorecards his jaw began to drop. Greg was tied with the leader. Only ten holes after he started, he had closed a five shot deficit. Greg had a few struggling holes coming down to the eighteenth, but two more birdies kept him tied with the leader.

It had come down to the eighteenth hole. Greg realized that this is exactly what he had seen in his dream. Now he knew he was going to win. Both leaders hit two great shots onto the green, and grabbed their putters.

Greg was first to putt. He lined up his ball, looking for the speed, break, grain, and everything else that would affect its roll. He smoothly took his putter back and pushed through stroking the ball towards the hole. The ball hit the side of the cup, turned hard to the right, and rolled off three feet.

At that moment it seemed like his whole life flashed before his eyes when his competitor stroked his ball into the hole. Greg couldn’t believe it; he had missed his chance to fulfill his dream. He had lost.

Later in his life he was in a very similar situation on the golf course, this time as a freshman playing for a spot on his high school’s varsity team. Greg remembered that if he never gave up, he really couldn’t lose. He ended up mounting a huge comeback against his opponent, this time winning on the 18th hole, and earning a spot on his high school’s team.


Copyright 2002-2006 Student Publishing Program (SPP). Poetry and prose 2002-2006 by individual authors. Reprinted with permission. SPP developed and designed by Strong Bat Productions.