First Tee Panic Read online

  The morning of the second test broke clear and cold. The weather this time would not be much of a factor.

  By the time I had made it through my warm-up routine on the range and putting green, I was even angrier that I was even there. I was in the third group to tee off. All I remember on that first shot was that I swung as hard as I could because there was just no trouble on either side of the fairway to get into. Turned out, I hit one of the longest drives of the day there among all the professionals.

  I birdied the first hole with a tap-in putt.

  I birdied the second hole with a three foot putt.

  I chipped in for an eagle on the par five third hole.

  I birdied the fourth hole with a ten foot putt.

  Five shots under par in four holes.

  Now that was the player I remembered myself being from Palm Springs. Zell would have been proud of me.

  But what now?

  I knew I couldn’t keep playing out of the anger. I had to play smart, stay focused on the only reason I was there, which was to pass the stupid ten-over-par test.

  So, on the tee of the fifth hole, I changed style. From that moment on, I played safe. I had 32 holes left to play and fifteen shots over par to spend to make the test score.

  I made pars on the rest of the holes on the first nine, for a 30 on the par 35, rimming out a birdie putt on the 9th hole for what would have been only 29 in my life.

  I was two over par on the next nine. Still three under for the first eighteen holes.

  Two over par on the next nine, playing safe all the way.

  Then, still even par for the tournament since my little splash of birdies right off, I came to the really nasty sixteenth hole of the second time around, actually my 33rd hole of play that day.

  It was a short par four with out-of-bounds the entire right side of the fairway and out-of-bounds about ten feet behind the green. I had already played it once and it was one of the holes I had worked out the night before that was a real danger to a score.

  “Play safe. Stay away from that out-of-bounds.”

  I remember thinking that as I stood on that tee.

  So, much to the laughter of the rest of the pros in my group, I turned and aimed my drive over the bench and clear out into the bordering fairway. In fact, I hit it so far in that direction, I hit it clear across the neighboring fairway and into the rough on the other side.

  Safe.

  The rest of my group sort of waved goodbye to me as they started down the hole we were playing and I started off at an angle.

  My second shot now had another problem. Instead of just having the out-of-bounds on the right and behind the green, I was so far left, I had to aim directly at the out-of-bounds just to aim at the green.

  And the green sloped off the back toward that out-of-bounds behind it.

  All I could think about was bouncing my shot out of the rough over the green and then standing there in a neighboring fairway and doing what I called a “McLean Stevenson” meaning a replay of that ten I took in Palm Springs in my first professional tournament.

  So I played safe with my second shot, took a good two clubs too little for the distance, and aimed my shot toward the front of the green, into a wide spot in the fairway. My plan was that I could then chip up and make the putt for another par. I had learned the lesson well of it didn’t matter how, it was just how many that counted.

  My ball stopped in front of the green, a good fifty paces short.

  As I stood over the third shot, all I could think about was blading the ball over the green and out-of-bounds. I just couldn’t shake that nasty thought, which meant more than likely, that was exactly what was going to happen.

  I stepped back and looked at the situation. I only had two holes to play after this. What difference would a bogey make at this point? I was still even par and the cut line was ten over. Bogey didn’t matter, but numbers higher than that did.

  So I put my wedge back into my bag and took out the club I had the most confidence with. My putter.

  Now, understand, there was a good fifty paces to the front of the green, and another twenty paces to the pin. All downhill. All over rough, late-winter ground.

  In other words, I had no idea where this ball was going to go. The correct shot was to chip it into the air.

  I didn’t care what was correct.

  At that moment, I just wanted to bang my ball down by the green, maybe on the front edge, two putt and go to the next hole.

  The other three professionals started laughing at my club choice as I walked up to the front of the green to get a sense of the distance. But they had no right to laugh and they knew it. I was a good six shots ahead of my nearest playing companion. I just wanted to get off this stupid golf course and get home to see how far behind I was with my classes.

  So, pretending I was standing on a really, really big green with a really, really long putt, I hit the shot.

  I remember my ball bounced a good ten feet into the air fairly soon after I hit it.

  Putts aren’t supposed to bounce like that.

  Then still bouncing, my ball kept rolling and bouncing, right onto the front of the green.

  Then it broke right, then broke back left, hit the pin, and went into the hole.

  Birdie three on the scorecard.

  It wasn’t pretty, it wasn’t done by the book, and the entire hole was played out of sheer fear and common sense.

  And it sure was fun.

  I passed the test with a par-par finish on the last two holes. Actually, I was eight shots ahead of the second-place finisher.

  That summer, due to summer school classes, I ended up never playing in any other tournaments. The following year I didn’t renew my PGA membership status and a few years later I applied to the USGA and got my amateur standing back. That was my last tournament as a professional golfer.

  But that hole was a way for me to see everything Zell had taught me and what I hope many will get from this book. Fear is a part of the game of golf, as well as in life. Learn how to play with fear, and how to use it.

  Don’t panic.

  Just learn the routines, keep your head and wits about you, keep your breathing regular, and think.

  And always remember, it doesn’t matter how pretty a golf shot is. All that matters is the final score.

  That, and having a great time.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  USA Today bestselling author Dean Wesley Smith published more than a hundred novels in thirty years and hundreds of short stories across many genres.

  He wrote a couple dozen Star Trek novels, the only two original Men in Black novels, Spider-Man and X-Men novels, plus novels set in gaming and television worlds. Writing with his wife Kristine Kathryn Rusch under the name Kathryn Wesley, they wrote the novel for the NBC miniseries The Tenth Kingdom and other books for Hallmark Hall of Fame movies.

  He wrote novels under dozens of pen names in the worlds of comic books and movies, including novelizations of a dozen films, from The Final Fantasy to Steel to Rundown.

  He now writes his own original fiction under just the one name, Dean Wesley Smith. In addition to his upcoming novel releases, his monthly magazine called Smith’s Monthly premiered October 1, 2013, filled entirely with his original novels and stories.

  Dean also worked as an editor and publisher, first at Pulphouse Publishing, then for VB Tech Journal, then for Pocket Books. He now plays a role as an executive editor for the original anthology series Fiction River.

  For more information go to www.deanwesleysmith.com, www.smithsmonthly.com or www.fictionriver.com.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  1: Help! I Don't Want to Whiff the First Shot

  2: Help! What do I do While a Bag Boy Unloads My Clubs

  3: Help! How do I Act Like a Real Golfer in the Pro Shop?

  4: Help! Which Club Should I Hit First on the Driving Range?

  5: Help! Which Club Should I Hit Last on the Driving Range?

  6: Help! How Many Practice
Putts Is Too Many?

  7: Help! The Starter Has Just Called Our Group and I'm Frozen Stiff

  8: Easing the Tension

  9: Getting the Tee Into the Ground

  10: Taking a Deep Breath, Maybe Two

  11: Visualizing the Path of the Ball

  12: ...Just Hit the Stupid Thing

  True Stories from the Front Lines

  How I Didn’t Play with Bob Hope

  My Best and Worst Tee Shot Ever Was the Same Shot

  Fear and the Art of Putting from the Middle of the Fairway

  About the Author

  Copyright Information