It was August 17, 2009. It was my first round of the season. The previous winter I had injured my hand, which kept me away from the course for 8 months.

I wasn’t supposed to be playing yet according to my doctor. Still, I took a few swings on the range with my dad and felt fine. We played 18 with friends. We had a dinner reservation in just over 90 minutes, but no one was on the course. So, we tried to squeeze in an “emergency nine.” The second-to-last hole was a 187-yard par-3 with. I hit a pure 8-iron that rolled right in.

I wasn’t supposed to be playing according to my Dr. and I was supposed to head in for dinner. I’m glad I didn’t do either. Otherwise I wouldn’t have had my first hole-in-one.