Sophomore year was the best year in high school. I found myself playing on the best golf team in the state. An electric charge built up inside of me. This felt incredible. I thought I would never get the chance to play in a conference meet for my team. My coach told everyone, “You all are competing against each other in every practice for a place in conference.” I won the final spot.
Mr. Williamson, the JV coach, saw me as a player that was getting better. He had already picked out three of the four people to play in the final meet of our season. There appeared to be one spot left up for grabs with four people fighting for it. Ricky, Gabe, Nick, and I had to battle it out in a playoff at Ironwood after school. Me being the underdog. As soon as the last bell rang I rushed to Ironwood faster than Usain Bolt.
The playoff started and as soon as I hit my first shot emotion built up. My ball was caught up in the rough on the far left side of the fairway. The others had hit straight shots and mine was the outlier. Luckily I recovered to save par and played even golf for the next four holes. But later a choke feeling arose from inside me. Emotions began boiling up inside.
Hole, 8 was – an exceptionally easy one on paper-the cause of trouble. Trouble lurked around the corner. I held a three stroke lead over Gabe and Ricky and a six stroke lead over Nick. Hole seven I salvaged a par. Standing before number 8 I say, “I’ve got this.” My first tee shot was shanked into the woods. This time I got a double bogey. It could have been worse.
At this point Ricky was two strokes behind and Gabe one stroke behind. Walking to the tee, I told myself, “Don’t choke kid this is where it ends, with you.” Relief struck me right after that as I had won the playoff beating out Gabe by one stroke. Holding my head high walking off the green Mr. Williamson stood off to the side applauding me. The story of an underdog was complete.