On a scramble that I held for my birthday at a nearby course with 18 of my closest buddies, an elevated green stood in my way and glory. Having previously played the course I knew the ways of this demonic hole layout. The crisp ocean breeze swirled around us while the leaves rustled in anticipation of the strike. The breath was pure, the grip soft, the connection compressed of the blades surface, yet a slight they. In a moment the air stopped, time stood still, and the trajectory was like a corkscrew missile, on target with a menacing objective. It hit it's target! The breeze back in action and we to our carts to see the damage that had been done by our intoxicated joyous swings. We approached the land of unforgivable deceit, a places where hope and dreams are obliterated by a blade of grass, yet by the same means brought to legendary status to be remembered for generations. Barren, empty, void... There was nothing to be seen. As expected the stumbling tribe held their wepons of choice deep into the ruff in search of hope. 3 shimmers of light were found yet there was one still evading us. A suggestion of humor, nay pity, was lobbed into the air like a duffed chip from the thick *** with no follow threw, "did you check the hole?" With absolute confidence, the type that life is wagered with, I replied " not a chance, I had to roll off the dance floor like an empty keg being changed" We all hid our hopes with an insignificant chuckle and get back to our lacking search. There was something that caught my eye though. A flash of white, more brilliant then the mat snow color of the cup. At that time my brother in swings started to approach the whole as well. We trudgingly approach the hole after what felt like an eternity of searching. French horns, the choir of men, nature's rapture all accumulating at once!!! There is was!! The celestial being in the physical manifestation of a gold ball. With the weightlessness feeling of yesteryear and the adrenaline of a 12 year old I flew into the air. Jumping up and down with the motley crew accompanying me. Belly bongos, high fives, chest bumps, Stone Cold Steve Austin's, and Tiger fist pumps were a few of the celebrations that transpired. Pure unadulterated joy, miracles do happen! We failed forward boys! We failed forward.