We came, we saw, we swung a few clubs, and at the end of the day, we won.
Not for being good at golf, no. Not even a little bit. In fact, at the end of the Bonnyville and District Chamber of Commerce's Golf Scramble this past Sunday, the Bonnyville Nouvelle's team of hopefuls came in dead last, with nearly double the points of Cenovus's winning team.
That's a score of 108, for the record, and as has been pointed out to be since, that's a great score – in darts.
I think, though, that we were pretty much set up to fail.
This is how I know:
Our team consisted of me, Brandon MacLeod, sports reporter, and Chantal Briere, graphic designer. Our fourth member allegedly walked into a wall the day before the tournament and could not play, and attempts to find a replacement failed. Strike one against us.
Strike two? I've played once before, and it was a terrible experience forever branded in my mind as “the time my dad dragged me golfing and my ball landed on a frog.” Yeah, it was messy. And the frog did not survive the encounter. My ball, however, ricocheted off the frog's mangled corpse and bounced out of a water hazard, so I guess I'll take it as a win.
And that much golf experience still exceeds Chantal's. Brandon did his best to carry us through the competition, but there is only so much one man can do against the destructive force of two girls more excited to pilot our own golf carts than striking a clean hit up the fairway.
Strike three came when somehow, our team was slated to start the tournament on hole #4. For those of you who don't know, hole #4 at the Bonnyville Golf and Country Club is a sadistic little one with barely any fairway at all, and what fairway there is happens to be bisected by a water hazard. To make matters worse, that hole had been selected as the hole-in-one challenge, so two helpful ladies had parked themselves at the green, which was quite close to the tee off box – close enough, in fact, that we could hear their laughter and heckling comments quite easily.
Nothing crushes the souls of three weary golfers like the heckles and jeers coming from an audience.
Still, we trudged on, determined to conquer all 18 holes, despite our disadvantages.
Strike four? Our team somehow ended up trailing along behind the Kool FM team, who took delight in taunting us for our lack skill and our golf attire and seemed unable to hear our replies, which were quite witty and well-timed.
The low point came when they deliberately drove their cart right over my ball, crushing it into the ground, and drove away cackling and calling, “Play it as it lies, Nouvelle!”
And we did. But not well.
Still, there were shining moments of victory for our little team. Every ball that did not land in the trees, water or sand was reason to celebrate. Every time our clubs made contact with the ball rather than somehow missing entirely, another reason for cheers and high fives. Not giving up, even though we were the last team to drag our feet into the clubhouse at the end of the day, that takes strength, courage and determination – perhaps as much or more than coming in first would have taken.
So at the end of the day, despite all of those strikes against us, we did triumph.
The meaning of golf isn't in the scoreboard or the calibre of clubs bouncing around in the back of your cart. It's about coming together with friends for some fresh air, a bit of friendly, non-judgemental competition and a good time.
And if at the end of that time, you make a name for yourself and come out with a prize? Well, that's just icing on the cake.
Even if that prize is for being the worst golf team ever.
