I made a hole-in-one. Just not everyone sees it that way

A couple of weeks ago, I played the Wee Course, a seven-hole par-3 course at Apogee Golf Club in Hobe Sound, Fla. In my group were my colleagues Johnny Wunder and Adam Christensen and Top 100 Teacher Stephen Sweeney, along with some of Sweeney’s friends and family. If you’re doing the math, that’s more than four golfers, but that’s the thing about the Wee Course: There aren’t many rules. Heck, we didn’t even play the holes in order. Our first hole was the 4th on the card and our second was the 5th. Not until after 7 did we circle back and play 1, 2 and 3. Fun stuff.

But back to the 5th hole (our second), all 68 yards of it. Stephen hit first and dropped a dart to about six inches behind the flag, a shot that I had the unfortunate privilege of following. I stepped in with my new custom-ground Ping S259 lobber and hit a flighted draw that landed just past the hole and spun back on a 45º angle. As my ball tracked toward the cup, it waved to Stephen’s and then . . . disappeared. My second career hole-in-one. But that’s just where the story starts.

Let’s set the scene

We weren’t at Apogee to film or create content. We were there only for pure enjoyment. As we strolled the property — each of us with just three wedges and a putter — the setting sun cast a soft glow across the manicured grounds. Perfection.

On our walk to the first tee shot, Stephen told me about the medallions that the club dispenses to players who make an ace on the Wee Course. I didn’t think much of it, but Stephen said that he didn’t have one (and neither does Apogee member Rory McIlroy); Stephen’s father, meanwhile, made sure we all knew that he did have one. The first hole went about how you’d expect after a long work day and being cooped up in a car for a few hours: most of us missed the green. We laughed, jabbed one another and finished out the hole. We had zero expectations for the round, other than to have a good time.

On the next tee, when Stephen’s shot scared the hole, our group was ready to erupt, but the ball refused to drop. Then came my fateful swing. Adam didn’t capture the ball falling into the hole, but he did chronicle our reaction, which you can see above. Before long, Adam posted the video in GOLF.com’s Slack channel (our messaging platform), with the caption: “Does it count?”

My colleagues had opinions. But I’ll come back to those in a minute.

Not my first hole-in-one

This was not my first hole-in-one. Almost exactly two years earlier I’d made an ace at BryanGolf’s Battle at the Beach at Hammock Beach in Palm Coast, Fla. From 167 yards, I hit an 8-iron (a touch thin if I’m being honest) at a blind pin and never saw it drop into the hole.

That swing was especially meaningful to me because a year earlier I had lost my grandfather, who lived in Florida, and this was my full round in the state since his death. When I found the ball in the bottom of the cup, I became a bit emotional, as if I were somehow connecting to my grandpa. It’s a moment I will never forget, but the Apogee ace story is the one I’ll always tell first.

The co-worker reaction

As the ace video marinated in our work Slack group, debate quickly raged on whether my 68-yard ace on a short course should count as … AN ACE. I’ve worked at GOLF only for about six months and haven’t played golf with most of my colleagues let alone had time to understand their barometers for what constitutes a “real” hole-in-one.

Reactions were decidedly mixed. Jack Hirsh argued a hole-in-one from any distance is an achievement that should be celebrated; Zephr Melton, Josh Berhow and Alex Gelman, on the other hand, said the shot wasn’t long enough for their liking. Tim Reilly contended that you should be able to count a par-3 course hole-in-one only if you’ve already made a 1 on a regulation course.

That led to the classic “What about Pebble Beach No.7?” argument, a hole on which golfers regularly celebrate 90-yard aces. My take? It was a hole-in-one by definition — and I’ll forever share my story. But I’ll never tell people I have two holes-in-one. I’ll tell them I have one hole-in-one, and one short course hole-in-one. Why bother taking credit for the shorty? Because of the memory it produced; I don’t ever want that to die.

The story is the winner, not the ball in the hole

My job is a wonderful grind. Being a part of the Fully Equipped team is amazing, but also challenging in many ways with so much going on behind the scenes. Johnny Wunder, my boss, is a friend and mentor. Playing golf with him is always a blast, but we usually find ourselves playing “business” golf and rarely get a chance to just enjoy playing together with no strings attached.

This round was different. Pure bliss. Stephen was gracious to bring us to Apogee, which blew Johnny and I away with its beauty. It was also a blast to play alongside Adam, who has been in the trenches with me for the last few months as we’ve ramped up the Fully Equipped platforms to serve up higher quality and more frequent content for our audience. But for this short walk around the Wee Course, we set everything aside.

Beyond seeing the ball drop, there were so many other moments to love. Johnny hitting another six-inch dart immediately after me. The group of guys who saw my ball go in as they walked past the green. The celebration from THEM! Total strangers who were so jazzed to see an ace. The high-fives, the first bumps, the hugs. This was a celebration with friends. It didn’t matter to me one bit that the shot was 100 yards shorter than my first hole-in-one. This one instantly meant more to me, and that’s why I care about it so much.

So, yeah . . . it’s a hole-in-one. The 1 I most want to talk about because of the people who were with me when it happened. And if there ever comes a day when I can show Rory my medallion, I’d love to have that conversation with him.

Until then, I’ll just keep telling everyone else.