It also means you are done and you get to go home soon and not have to deal anymore with the windmill, the half pipe, and funhouse and all the other greens. The purple ball goes down the chute and you turn in your putter to the crabby old guy behind the cash register.
For whatever reason, I have always started out strong at DMGCC, but something about the greens here get my goat. It bends me out of shape. On number 1, I drew a nice 8 iron into a stiff left to right wind about 10 feet from the cup, but the break never showed up on the putt, but did on the next which tried every which way not to roll in.
I did play with my neighbors, and that made up for my miseries. KP and JN were wonderful compatriots, true golfists. JS, who joined us on the back, is scratch, and I got a glimpse of the promised land. I can’t see how I’ll ever get there, but I have faith that it is there.
I should stop whining.