Saved by a girl in a golf tournament

I don’t play much golf these days, but I did participate in the Columbia Basin Herald-Sun Tribune staff tournament at the Links at Moses Pointe last Saturday.

My team finished second to the publisher’s team by a one-stroke difference. I generally don’t like second place, but this finish did keep the employer-employee relationship intact.

It was windy, probably 20-25 mph for the first nine, and windier, with some sprinkles, for the second nine. But generally it was balmy weather and an exciting day for one who loves to be on the course.

The most exciting part of the experience was meeting Hannah Bisnett of Warden, one of my playing partners, along with Curt Weaver and Jill Baker, both co-workers.

Jill, the brilliant graphic designer (I call her artist) who is responsible for how the Sun Tribune looks, brought Hannah to the fray. Little did I suspect she would be our ringer.

First let me describe the blond-haired Hannah. She is 20, six feet tall and built like an athlete. But she walks and speaks softly.

After our first swings in this four-person scramble, I looked at Curt and said: This is going to be a good day.

Not because of Curt’s or my shots but Hannah’s. I went into the tall right rough at about 170 yards. Curt was shorter but down the middle. Jill got off one of the best shots of her golfing life, about 100 yards.

“I’m just learning,” she said. “I can’t believe I just did that.”

For the record, Jill is no Hannah, and she will admit it, but she played the best golf of her life Saturday. Something about being in the company of golfers who were having fun. We chatted during each other’s putts.

Then Hannah stepped up to the tee. She ripped a high arching shot about 200 yards down the middle. The advantage of the red tees made it about a 250-yarder for men. We were in business.

We parred. Our final team score was 1-over par.

We started on 18. So our next hole was No. 1. Curt, Jill and I did about the same on No. 18. Then Hannah saved us again. She went down the middle about 180 yards dead straight into the wind.

Hannah’s most impressive shot was on No. 9. I was driving well by then, and I put my shot right at the edge of downhill drop, just past the 150-yard marker.

Let me see her top that, I said to myself.

Using her very smooth, easy swing, Hannah launched a shot I didn’t see.

“Down the middle, it went over the edge,” she said.

Oh, I thought, but “Great,” I said.

As I got to the drop-off, I looked for Hannah’s ball and couldn’t locate it.

“It’s down there,” Curt said.

Certainly was. Hannah’s drive had stopped near the flat about 100 yards from the green.

I finally outdrove one of Hannah’s big shots on No. 10, but we used Jill’s because of the rules and because she had lacked one past the 150-yard marker. Yay Jill.

The last big saving shot from Hannah came on No. 11. I topped my ball left about 40 yards. Curt went down the middle about 150 and Jill went down the right side of the fairway about 150.

The Blonde Bomber? All she did was crunch a shot more than 200 yards to the perfect spot, at the curve, to go on up the hill on the par-5 hole.

Now this is the part of the story the girls didn’t want me to tell.

Jill and Hannah really turned out to be girls at No. 12 at about 4 p.m. When the biggest wind and a little rain kicked up, they bailed on us.

“We need to go,” Jill said. “We’re going to Tri-Cities with friends.”

“Yeah,” Hannah said. “And now we have to take showers again.”

Curt and I teased them a little about bailing but then thanked them for joining us and wished them a fun evening.

We certainly won’t forget the day Jill played her best golf and brought us a ringer named Hannah.