I used to golf two to three times per week.  I had a course membership in Virginia Beach and usually shot in the mid 80s.  I've shot 80 at least ten different times but have never broken into the 70s.

So, a friend of mine at work suggests we hit the links yesterday.  I haven't played since last summer or even picked up a club (new child, bills, etc. got in the way).  He takes me to a course he is a member of and lays claim that he's a "scratch" golfer.  I chuckle inside.  Normally when someone tells me they're a scratch golfer, they really have no idea what that actually means.  So, we go to the course.

I've never played this particular course before so I take me friends word for it when it comes to hazards and distances.  The front 9 goes well, really well.  I'm in at 32 and feeling damn good about myself.  This is easily the best golf I've played maybe ever.

We grab some hot dogs and a beer and head to the tenth.  I'm already 4 under par and 10 is a shorter par 5.  My drive is smack down the middle with only 170 to the pin.  I stick the pin and am left with a couple feet for eagle.  I make the eagle.  I'm giddy.

Over the next 5 holes, I have a double bogey and two other bogies.  This is ok because I am still 2 under with 3 to play.  The 70s are in my sights.  Then my drive on 16 goes in the water.  I tell myself this is ok.  I hit a 3 wood into the fairway with a decent look at possibly scrambling for a bogey on the easiest hole on the course.  Fast forward ten minutes and I just recorded a 10 on the hole.  I'm now 4 over and the 70s are still attainable.  Two pars and I'm in the clubhouse at 76.

I bogey 17.  A double bogey on 18 will put me at 79.

18 is a decent par 5.  I'm sitting at 72 right now.

I'm walking off of the 18th green now, down a sand wedge that is at the bottom of the pond in front of the 18th green and I have a score of 82.  I hate my life.