What should have been a straighforward par 5 was turning into trouble. From 175 yards, my ball hooked right into a pond. my approach from there hit in front of the flag, but took a hard bounce and finished 18 feet past.
Sawyer was having his own troubles, and Miller was gunning for a par. I turned to him, ”Miller, if I make this putt, I get to name your first kid.”
”no way!!! It’s not that hard of a putt!” “ok, then what do I get?” ”You can decide the middle name.” Thinking to myself, what a bargain! I lined it putt, hit it exactly how I wanted to, and was overly dismayed to not see it break at all, but go dead straight, and three inches to the left of the cup. Next time mill-dog.