# The Second-Guess

There's a particular kind of doubt that lives in the moment between pulling a club from the bag and walking up to the tee. On April 4th, 2026, at the Links at Greenfield Plantation, that doubt was the best decision I ever made.

It was 151 yards, par three, downwind. I was up second. Standard math said 9-iron — my usual club for that distance — but the wind was at my back, ready to carry anything I hit an extra club or two. I walked up to the tee box with the 9 in hand, felt the wind one more time, and switched to my pitching wedge at the last second. A club I carry 140, hoping the wind would do the rest.

I hit it flush. The ball climbed, rode the tailwind, and dropped three feet past the pin. Then it spun back. That slow, deliberate kind of spin where time does something weird. It tracked toward the hole like it had been called home — and disappeared.

First hole-in-one. Pitching wedge. Downwind. On a club I almost didn't pull.

Sometimes the best shot of your life is the one where you trusted the wind to do the work and clubbed down to let it happen.