Nance Enjoys Closure; My Eagle Soars
There’s more to golf than just making pars and birdies and winning and losing.
Taking home the trophy is just one of the myriad happenings during a golf tournament.
Just ask Jack Nance, the hard-working, dedicated, never-flinching-from-duty executive director of the Carolinas Golf Association.
Nance had more to celebrate than just his North Carolina team’s victory in the annual Tar Heel Cup matches Monday and Tuesday. That was sweet enough, of course, as the pros have dominated the series with an overall record of 13-4-2.
But while Nance was justifiably proud of his eight-man team for defeating the pros for the second straight year, he was also able to enjoy some closure on an event that happened almost seven years earlier.
The case of the long-lost walkie-talkie has been solved.
“It was during the 2006 Carolinas Amateur here,” Nance recalled. “There was a back-up in play on the 13th and 14th holes, and I was waiting in a cart to cross the bridge because I didn’t want to disturb the guys on the 14th tee. I had placed my radio in the cup holder on the cart, and when I crossed my legs the toe of my shoe hit the bottom of the radio and knocked it into the pond.
“At that time, that was about an $800 radio, so I figured I really needed to get it.”
So Nance marked the spot by counting off the pilings in the bridge and went back to his duties. But as soon as play had ended and the formalities taken care of, Nance hurried home, changed into shorts and a T-shirt and went back out to the pond.
“I had a friend with me to make sure I didn’t drown, and I started diving to try and find the radio,” he said. “The water was murky and the bottom was muddy, and after about half an hour I had to give it up.
“But I never forgot about it and it always bugged me. I really needed some closure.”
That closure came Tuesday when CCNC superintendent Ron Kelly presented the long-lost radio to Nance.
Kelly and his staff recently drained the pond to do some maintenance work, and there, buried in the silt and mud, was the radio.
No, it wasn’t still working and, yes, it did look a little worse for its long ordeal, but it actually cleaned up pretty well.
“Finally, I can put the incident to rest,” Nance said, looking fondly at the culprit of his discontent. “Six-and-a-half years, I’ve worried about it. Thank you, Ron Kelly.”
As for me, my personal season of discontent continues. Here it is mid-March and there is still no birdie on my scorecard.
In all the years that I’ve been toiling at this so-called game of leisure, I have never endured such a barren stretch. But I’ve never had such a horrible game, either
All is not lost, however, because while I remain without a birdie, I do have an eagle to crow about. Yep, picked up a 3 on the par-5 13th hole at Gates Four last Monday.
OK, so there is a seed of discontent in my moment of glory. In fact, some of the Gates Four Gangsome guys are still ribbing me about it.
Why? Because I picked up the eagle by holing a 7-iron from 105 yards. That’s right; a 7-iron.
OK, I know that sounds anemic. It seems like only yesterday that my average distance for a 7-iron was 155 yards. But that was yesterday, and yesterday’s gone.
Actually, the way it came about, I ripped a driver about 175 yards, smoked a 3-iron to the 105-yard marker, and the rest was a thing of beauty.
OK, so it was a 7-iron from where everyone else is hitting wedge. Let them try hitting a 105-yard wedge with my swing.
My old friend Steve Williams and I used to have a birdie contest, keeping score all year and enjoying a drink on the guy who had the fewest.
Well, that little contest is something else that has passed. With Steve leading 36-0 as of last count, I have conceded.
But hey, he hasn’t had an eagle yet, either.
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