Missed it by THAT much...

This weekend was especially memorable since I was able to play 18 holes with my dad in the middle of January...

and the fact that on the 15th hole my Dad teed up a par 3 7 iron two feet to the right of the pin...

an amazing shot, for certain, putting me in the unenviable position of following brilliance. "Put it inside mine," quips my father.

"If I do, I might soil myself," replies his witty son.

One sweet 8 iron later, I was 2 and a half feet to the left of the pin.

After several moments of uncontrollable exaltation, we strode proudly up to the green for the birdies we would not soon forget...
Then, as if a cruel twist of fate, in the middle of my swing the advice my father had given me years ago as a beginner golfer struck me like an anuerism..."NEVER LEAVE A BIRDIE PUTT SHORT."

Ironic words as I watched in horror while my birdie putt came slowly to rest on the lip of the cup...

I took a three. Dad drained his putt.

Curses!

In other news, (which only golfers will appreciate) I did beat my dad by one stroke, 88-89.