Buzz and Dave walked across the narrow bridge to the 18th tee. One more hole and it will be over. Neither player wanted to go to a sudden death playoff.
“Let’s end it right here, Dave, one way or another.”
Bradford was about to answer when he felt searing pain. “Ouch.” He screamed, as he felt something rip at his shoulder. An instant later they heard the crack of the gun followed by three more “bangs.” Bradford couldn’t believe it; someone was shooting at him.
“Down! Get down!” Chris shouted as she ran towards the players with her gun drawn. Dave and Buzz needed no further encouragement as they both hit the ground. They didn’t need to be told twice.
“Are you two all right? Dave? Buzz?” They nodded, but made no attempt to get up.
“It came from the woods,” someone shouted. Chris was on her radio and within seconds Dave heard sirens and saw police cars driving across the fairway. “Get a helicopter in here,” shouted Chris into the phone. “I’ll stay with the target.”
Thirty minutes later, despite the helicopter, six police cars and three golf carts, they gave up the search. The gunman had gotten away. “We found bullet casings and footprints, but it looked like he had a car or bike waiting. Nobody seems to have seen anything, but we are still working at it.”
“Come on, both of you, I’ll give you a ride to the clubhouse.”
The players looked at each other and both shook their heads. “Chris, if you don’t mind, we still have a hole to play,” Buzz said. “This is no big deal after what Dave went through with Mary.”
Bradford agreed. “Let’s play.”
“Is this a macho thing?” Chris asked, shaking her head in disbelief. “Okay, fellows, it’s up to you. I’ll stick with you just in case, but I’m sure the guy is long gone. Have at it! I gather that blood on your shoulder won’t hurt your swing.”
With all the excitement, Dave hadn’t even noticed the tear in his shirt and the blood on his shoulder. It wasn’t much worse than a scratch, but a stark reminder of how close the bullet had come.
“It’s nothing but a flesh wound, Chris. The bullet went right through. I can make it to my horse.”
“What are you talking about, Dave?” Chris asked. “Are you sure you are all right.”
“I always wanted to say that, since I was a kid watching Roy Rodgers and The Lone Ranger. This was my one big chance.”
“By the way, Buzz, do I get a stroke because I’m injured?”
“Only if I get one for this,” Buzz replied as he lifted his shirt revealing a gash on his left rib cage. The wound looked worse than Bradford’s.
“Are you sure you can play with that?”
“We’ll see,” Buzz replied. “I always said I could out drive you with one arm. Now we will find out.”
Chris realized that something had transpired between these two adversaries. Somehow, with all that had happened, enemies had become friends. Golfers are a different breed of people, she thought.
”You two are both crazy, but I wish you luck.”
The match was even and Bradford had the tee. Under the circumstances, it was the perfect finishing hole. A 555 par 5, that was reachable only for the long hitters such as Buzz. However, there was a high risk-reward if you tried to reach the island green in two shots. There was water on three sides and trouble behind the green.
There was no chance that Bradford could reach the green in two, even without the injury to his arm. He took several practice swings to make sure that the wound would not affect his swing. It didn’t, and Dave’s ball found the center of the fairway.
Buzz took a few easy swings and said he would be okay. He surprised himself when his easy swing resulted in a great drive, down the middle and at least 40 yards past Dave’s ball. Depending upon the lie, he might have an opportunity to go for the green. “Why not?” Buzz thought. He was just the type of gambler to try something like this and pull it off.
As the players walked back across the bridge together, Bradford walked up beside Buzz. “Whatever happens, Buzz, I want you to know that I appreciate your support on the back nine. I don’t think I could have held it together without you.”
“Thanks, Dave; I appreciate your saying that. Maybe when this is all over and things settle down, we can have a beer or two and talk about some of the things that have happened. I know Ken would like that.”
“It’s a deal, Buzz, count on it.”
Bradford was 290 yards to the pin and decided to hit 5-wood; his favorite club today. He struck it well and left himself only 80 yards to the center of the green. Buzz was 240 yards to the pin and needed only 230 to clear the creek, well within his range. However, it was a front pin location and it would be very difficult to get a shot close to the hole. The pin was only 10 yards over the creek that cut in front of the green. Buzz considered going for it, but at the last second decided the risk was too high. He pulled out 5-iron and laid up, leaving himself about 60 yards to the pin. Dave would hit first.
Johnny Miller claims it is an advantage to hit first. “Put the pressure on your opponent,” he says. Frankly, Bradford would have preferred Buzz to hit first so he could see how the wind affected his ball and to determine what he had to do. He didn’t have that luxury. Dave decided to play safe rather than challenge the pin with a sand wedge. He hit his pitching wedge a little fat and got a good break when the wind knocked his shot down, leaving him a 12-15 foot birdie putt. Sometimes you hit a good ball and get nothing out of it, and other times like this you hit the ball a little bit off center and catch a break.
Buzz had 60 yards to the pin, a perfect distance for his lob wedge. He took little time and his shot was high and right at the pin, landing six feet past the hole, before spinning back. It narrowly missed hitting the pin before stopping five feet below the hole. He would have an easy uphill putt for birdie.
Bradford looked at his putt from every conceivable angle. Putts normally break towards the water, but there was water on three sides of the hole. Buzz’ putt looked relatively easy. He had to assume Buzz would make it. There was no sense in leaving his putt short. Dave went into his routine, lined up the putt, took one practice stroke and struck the putt firmly. It had too much speed and would have ended up 4-5 feet past the hole if it hadn’t hit the center of the cup and dropped for a birdie. He gave a Tiger Woods’ fist pump and a sigh of relief. He began mentally preparing for the sudden death playoff.
Buzz’ putt was almost straight up the hill with a slight right to left break, a perfect putt for a right handed golfer. It was only five feet and Buzz knew he would make it. There was no question in his mind. He started the putt on the right edge of the cup, but the ball never moved. Neither Buzz nor Dave could believe it. Dave Bradford was the Club Champion.
Thanks, Ken!
Book Four
Payoff
Chapter 1
Victory Celebration