June 19, 2026. Friday. Mighty Golf Club's 2nd Quarter Tournament at Camp Aguinaldo.

Twelfth hole: 126 yards, par 3, two big trees flanking the green like sentinels. I asked for my pitching wedge, my usual for that distance but my caddie handed me a 9 iron "Wind's against," he said. My flight mate agreed. I trusted them. Then the rain came. Fat drops splattering on my shoulders. I grinned and jokingly said "It's a blessing for a hole in one." No practice swing, unheard of for me. I just set, looked at the flag, and swung. The ball climbed high, hung against the gray sky, then dropped near the pin. It rolled right and vanished. Two thoughts: it's in. Or it rolled off the back edge. My flight mate screamed first. Then the caddies. Then everyone. We sprinted through the rain. Halfway there, doubt crept in: What if it's not there? We reached the green. Peered into the cup. There it was. We celebrated right there on the green, screaming in the rain.

The 11th and 12th holes had a prize: a brand-new Vespa scooter. I won it. That same day I also sank the Longest Putt Prize on hole 7 and took Lowest Net Champion. One round. One hole in one. One scooter. And a memory I'll never outdrive.