This has been a few years ago, but still as fresh in my memory as the day it happened. We were playing the Players Club of Henderson in late July... it was hot and humid... had just rained the day before. My game was rusty since I had only been out a couple of times all year. Started the round bogey-double-double and wondered how awful my score was going to be.

The first par 3 on the course was an uphill shot protected by shaggy rough on the front slope and bunkers on either side. The tees were up a bit, and with the elevation and wind right around a 7-iron for me. I turned to my brother and said, "Enough of this... I'm stuffing this one close."

Couple practice swings, address the ball, focus on one swing thought (keep my elbow in), and swing... the ball shot right toward the flag, disappearing over the front slope guarding the hole and on line with the flag.

Again I turn to my brother: "I'm going to be (expletive) if I don't get to see my first ace."

The rest of the group hits and then I lose all patience... can't waste time getting back in the cart, so I run up the slope to check on my ball.

As I crest the hill, I get a view of the hole... the flag is leaning a bit one way and in its grip is half a Titleist DT SoLo. One gentle wiggle of the flagstick and *CLUNK* I'm hooping and hollering as I do a Hale Irwin victory lap around the green.

When I calm down, I survey the green like its the Zapruder film for clues to how my ace materialized. There's one big ball mark about 4 feet behind the pin. Obviously my ball landed, then went back... and to the left. Back... and to the left.

I went on to make another double on the next hole, but didn't seem to care too much about that. Played really well coming in the front 9 and solid on the back... a 79 thanks in large part to a "1" on the #4 hole.