The Last Hole—– by Andrew Ali.

This was written by my grandson Andrew. Not sure if I have told you what an amazing and avid golfer he is. This is entirely his way of putting his thoughts on paper. Please excuse his spelling mistakes and the typos. For a nine year old I think he does very well. I didn’t want to change anything. I loved it and wanted to share it with you all.

The Last Hole 

Andrew Ali 

It was hot, or maybe it was just the sweat on me fooling my brain. I

had a good reason to be sweaty though, a shiny trophy that would take a

miracle to get my hands on. It was the biggest tournament of the year for

me, so it would be the even better to win the thing… 

In the summer I signed up for the pre-teen division golf championship

at the country club. The year before I won that same event by 20

strokes, up 13 after the first round. That result was not the same.  

The first round was on Thursday. I woke up the crack of dawn and

had some “Power Pancakes,” as my dad called them.  

After eating the power pancakes, my dad drove me to the club. The

ride to the club was quiet, I was just thinking about what’s going to happen

next. It felt like forever until I got there. 

 When I did get there, I went to the driving range. At the range I

saw one of my golf friends. I felt rather good at the range, so I went ahead

down to the putting green.  

As other kids started to show up for the tournament. When about

everyone got to the green, the matches were announced officially.  

“In the next round we have Rohan, Grant and Andrew set for hole

one.”  

One of the pros tolled us the simple rules. Bunkers are in play, tees

from the middle of the fairway, max of a quadruple-bogey on a given hole

and turn in the score card when done with the round.  

The score was close though out the round, me and Grant are trading

blow-for-blow. It’s tied at the 7 th , me and Grant know it's going down to the

last hole if no one blows it. On 7 I almost did blow it with a double-bogey.

Grant knew it was his time to make a move. Bogey was enough to put him

on to by 1. Hole 8, down 1. 

“Bang”! That was the sound of Grants drive on 8, power. The drive

was almost on the green. 

I felt the sweat on my fingers, the club waiting for a BIG hit. I lifted the

club, went down with the club, and hit the ball…Right in the rough. 

I went down to my ball and saw the lie, the grass was tall, but still

hittable. Not great but could be worse. I grabbed a pitching wedge. This

was a risky decision, I don’t like my pitching wedge because every time I hit

it, no matter how soft I try to hit it, goes over. 

 I knew that every shot from here on out is going to be the biggest

shot of the round. I lifted the club, went down on the club, and hit the ball

on the green. Like I said, no matter how soft I hit that club, goes over. It

was a good shot, no, a great shot. It just wasn’t the shot I needed.  

I walked up to the green and saw my ball, 100 feet from the hole.

Ok, not that much, but it was a long way from the pin. 

Grant had walked up to his ball while I was hitting and had a sand

wedge in his hand.  

“Please don’t make this,” I thought. 

By the way it looked, I could tell he wanted to make the chip bad. He

hit it… Badly. 

I have a long, long, long putt for the greatest putt of my life. I saw

Grant standing to my right, Rohan to my left. I lifted the putter and hit

the ball. It looked rather good all the way right to the end. At the end it had

no chance, a few inches off.  

It went in.  

“KOBE,” I yelled.  

Grant was in shock of how clutch it was. “It hit a devote,” he

protested. It was too late. The ball was in the cup, I had the confidence to

keep going on the hot day.  

I knew it was not fair that it went go in, but it did. That was all

that mattered in the biggest tournament of the year for me.  

All square going into number 9, the last hole of the front 9. The

hole will decide where I am going into be on the leaderboard before the

back 9 on Friday. 

Number 9 is a par 4, about 200 yards from the fairway tee boxes. I

went first since I won the hole.  

My hands were the biggest problem. There was a pool of sweat

from the intense match taking place. A few times that round the

club slipped out of my hand a little, I knew this wasn’t the time for that

mistake to happen. As a solution I went to my pushcart and rubbed my

hand on it.  

 Grant was letting me know about how nervous I was, that made me

want to pound the ball even more. I walked up to the ball and the lights

were on me… 

I didn’t want to disappoint Grant, so I let it rip. I bet that it hurt the golf

ball I hit. Not a burse, a broken bone. Right there on the fairway. 

Grant didn’t want to disappoint me either, so he let it rip.

He shattered the balls bones and made it scream for help. 

It was a weird moment walking up to my ball, my head mix with all

sorts of thought.  

My ball went the shortest, but still only a sand wedge. I hit a rather

good shot, about 10 from the cup. Grant hit his about the same, a long but

makeable putt to end the round. 

Walking to the last green of the day with a close score is the best

thing you can feel. The world stops everywhere else. It is just you and your

opponent. Both trying to get the win. It was no different that day. 

Me and grant both missed are putts. The shortest of short game was

now the key to victory. Grant put some pressure on me by making his putt,

but I was able to sink my putt.  

 We came the turn in the scorecard. One of the pros looked over the

card in said that Grant got a 45. I knew that wasn't true, I must have made

a mistake or something. I think I may have given grant a stroke on one of

the earlier holes. It was too late anyway. 

As the scores came in the competition was closer. A few kids got the

same score as me. Grant still had the lead with a 45 but including me there

were four golfers with a 46. 

The next day there was only one thought in my heads, golf, golf,

golf. I didn’t have much time to think about anything else because the

match was early in the morning. The first thing I did when I woke up was

get ready for golf. I put on the pull-over that I used when I won last year's

tournament. Had some pancakes and off to the course I was. 

When I got to the putting green there was lots of people already there

for the tournament, a chance to be crowned king. Me and Grant looked at

each other a few times on the green, but it was mostly silent.  

Then the matches were announced, “on hole one we have Andrew

and Grant.” I looked at Grant with a “wow, this is getting real,” kind of look. 

That was the final round of the tournament, same rules, same

number of holes, different feeling. I was eager to hit my drive on the fair of

the hardest hole on the course.  

On the hole I got a triple, but it wasn’t the worst triple I could get.

Plus, Grant got a double on the hole. So, I am down one for the

round though the first hole. Not the best start, but it could be worse. 

The round wasn’t that good after the first hole. I was down 3 at a

point, but after that things started to lighten up. 

Now it’s hole 14 and I am down a stroke. I stripe a drive down the

middle of the fairway. Grant hit a great shot too.  

Grant chunked his next shot and the next shot and the next shot.

Then he bladed it a little over the green, then an ok shot. Missed the putt,

then finally put it in for an 8. I got a 5 on the hole. After the hole, my dad

said Grant got a 7 on the hole. I tried to explain how he was wrong, but with

Grant trying to save a stroke it was 2 against 1. 

We walked to the next hole, but my mind was still on 14. 

Grant went first and hit into the woods, I thought I saw it land but we

couldn’t find it.  

I was still mad after the “7” at the last hole. Because of that anger I hit

the best drive of my life, all because of that 7. I can bet that if it wasn’t for

the 7, I would have hit a bad shot. 

After Grant hit, we couldn’t find his drive, so we had to drop one.

He hit an incredible shot, almost on the green.  

I hit my shot back of the green, but still a wonderful shot. So here we

were, Gant hitting 4 and me hitting 3. We both missed our putts, then taped

in. Grant with a 5 and me with a 4. 

The next hole was 16, the hardest hole on the course to me. It

is about 600 yards to the pin, crazy green, houses to the right, water

hazard before the green. It is the ultimate hole. 

Let us just say it wasn’t the greatest hole of my life. My

drive almost went in someone's backyard and I hit my 3 rd  shot in the water. I

ended up with an 8. Grant had a good hole with a 7, now 1 shot up on me. 

It was number 17, one of the shortest holes on the course. I hit a

great shot, but it had a few bad bounces and landed in the rough. Grant

toke the moment and hit it on the green.  

I walked over the bridge with 2 clubs, Grant had half as many clubs

walking down that same bridge.  

Grant went first and had a great putt, tap in for par. I absolutely need

a fantastic chip to stay in it. I went up with the club and hit such a great shot

it almost went in. 2 threes on the hole, down one stroke for the

tournament. 

The 18 th  hole is a short par 4, about 200 yards of the fairway tees.  

Grant hit first. I was hoping he would hit it into a tree, and that’s about

what he did. He topped it 65 yards, and by a tree. 

Then it was my turn, the last drive of the round, the most important. I

got my driver, took a few practice swings. Then “Boom,” I powered it right

though the fairway.  

I couldn’t find my ball when we got up to where I thought. Then I

heard a “ow.” 

I came up and saw it, the ball was a foot away from the tree. The tree

was in my backswing to. While I was trying to figure out how to hit my ball,

Grant hit his right on the green. It was the best shot I have seen him hit in

my life, from the middle of nowhere to the green hitting for par. 

Back to my imposable shot. I figured out that I could hit it if I put one

foot in the air and one on the ground. On my practice shots I had to make

some changes, so I don’t break the club wracking it on a tree. Then I hit the

ball perfectly, middle of the green. After contact I fell on the ground. 

Grant and I were both on the green in 2, putting for 3.  

I hit it closer to the pin than Grant with my incredible tree shot, so

he was putting first. He didn’t hit the greatest of shots, about 5 feet from the

hole. His next shot missed, and the shot after that, and the shot after that.

He ended up getting a triple-bogey. I watched him four putt on the last hole

when the round looked to be over. The thing is I think of Grant more of a

clutch player than four putt on the last hole to blow the tournament like

golfer. 

I knew that I didn’t need to sink my first shot like I thought before

Grant choked on the green. That gave me the relaxed feeling as I hit the

ball. It didn’t go in but in was enough for me to make the next putt. I won a

round against Grant and that was enough for me, but to win it on the last

hole while down one, in a big tournament? That’s like something that

would happen in one of those books where the good guy is about to

get defeated, but he rises from the shadows and wins.     

As more scores came in, the better the chances got that I won.

The last score came in, and it didn’t break 50. With that, I won the

tournament finishing with back-to-back pars. The pictures were taken, and

with that it was done. I beat Grant on the last hole to steal the trophy. 

Looking back, I realize that there were a lot of shots that I messed up

on, but then again, there where the 40ft putts and the shots I hit with one

foot on a tree. In the end I got the win, and that’s the most important part.