Nothing about this hole in one was ordinary. It was not at a home course, regular day of play, or even being able to see the hole. A group of friends and I decided to play hooky from work, drive 2 1/2 hours from Atlanta, GA to Sweetens Cove Golf Club for an all day of play in the "down with the brown" winter months. The course is an amazing 9-hole course we lapped 4 times, so as the sun is setting on 9 hours of continuous golf we are coming in for Hole 36 of the day, we are fairly exhausted. The approach to the green is 115 yards uphill to a perched pin position on a redan, flag stick visible but landing area and cup out of sight. With a vintage 90's era Kirkland glove, png i20 gap wedge missing the back-of-head weight from age and over-use, and a found Titleist ProVIx mudball (with a random logo of a company I've never known about), the stage is set. A group of 8-10 onlookers for the final hole are watching as I hit a crisp high wedge direct at the pin, lands 5 yards past, and as it spins back I start seeing the reaction from the group, who start losing their minds. When the arms go up in the air and the shouting increases, I drop my club and run at full speed up the hill, hat flying off my head as I cross the sand trap up to the green. As I approach the green, I start to consider that after 25 years of playing golf, 4 years of varsity golf in high school, and a trending handicap in the wrong direction, the unthinkable may have actually happened. I am on the verge of tears as I pull the ball from the hole, and then everything else goes blank. I can't focus on anything, only that I realize I have been screaming for a few minutes on the green like a madman. A story I will of course never forget for the rest of my life. This is the way.