The Battle at Sand Hollow

Last Saturday there was a battle for neighborhood golfing glory at Sand Hollow in Southern Utah. Caiser showed up, his game didn't, and Mitch and my father-in-law were also present. We made a day trip down to St. George to play 27 holes at Sand Hollow, recently rated #7 by Golf Digest for best new public courses.

It was a fun day, weather was around 50 degrees and sunny. I learned a lot about hope on this trip, adversity, and perseverance.

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Mitch, standing in fear as he tries to cross the crevasse.

Caiser lines up one of his many shanks.

Larry aims for the cart path. Larry (pictured below) actually hit the cart path, his ball came to a stop and then rolled back down the hill for 150 yards.

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This hole was also the hole where I triumphed over adversity and impossible odds. As you can see, the whole has a 120 ft cliff off to the left of the fairway. On the right of the fairway is a rock wall just as high. We also tee-off from a plateau above the fairway. I tried to play a safe shot and took an easy swing with my driver. I miss hit the ball (rare occurrence) and the ball rolled off the plateau and into the abysmal depths below. I new I had to play another ball, and I also knew that I was going to hit that ball poorly as well. I hit another drive at it sliced to the rock wall, bounced around and was lost. My adversaries rejoiced, they knew I needed to hit another one. Tears filled the eyes of Caiser and Mitch as they thought of the strokes that they were about to gain on me. They snarled and jeered as I teed up another ball, just like the hordes screaming down from the Great and Spacious Building. I focused and put my next shot in play.

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As I walked holding my rod of iron back to my golf cart amidst shouts of joy from my competitors, I retained a fervent hope for my original ball now lost. I dreamed a dream that I might recover my lost ball and play it once again. Like Nephi when he broke his bow, I knew that with faith I may recover all that was lost. I used my Liahona to guide me (my golf GPS on the cart). As I came below the plateau methought I saw a ball lying on the cart path (penalty free drop). I picked it up and found that it was my original ball. I dropped it next to the cart path and played it through the wailing and gnashing of teeth, the sounds of damned souls. I didn't win the hole, but I had a putt to tie it. I missed the putt, but found joy in the strokes that were saved. For if ye save but one stroke, how great shall be your joy if you save many strokes. Amen.