Miracle On the 17th Green

Cover Miracle On the 17th Green
Genres: Fiction
In fact, it was my four alarm clocks.
Haunted by the story of a contending golfer who was disqualified after sleeping through his tee time on the final day of Q-School — arguably the most heartrending catastrophe in the history of sports — I had stopped at a drugstore after dinner and bought a second alarm clock.
Then halfway back to the Ben Franklin I said, “Why fuck around?” and bought two more.
It hardly mattered. When I got to the course, they were running an hour behind.
At Q-School the pl
...ay is always painfully slow, but on Sunday the action virtually grinds to a halt. Players agonize over every club selection and every puff of wind, every break and every cut of grain.
In this overcooked atmosphere, watching someone card a bogey is like witnessing a violent mugging.
A double bogey is like a homicide.
Sunday isn’t just achingly slow, it’s also eerily quiet. There are no galleries, no applause, and no chatter among the players.
Even the birds stop chirping.
Despite the pressure, I can honestly say I had enjoyed my first three rounds.
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