PUT ME IN COACH -- Leave team down by 1 shot, but make amends in clubhouse

By Rudy Coggins
Published in Sports on March 21, 2015 11:28 PM

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Hey guys, I'm actually good at something.

Let me start by saying I'm not usually good at golf. And I'm not good in the sense that Bubba Watson is good. I'm good in the sense that I didn't make myself look like an utter fool on the golf course with Charles B. Aycock's golf team.

The day started with head golf coach Dave Elmore introducing me. He brought up the whole football fiasco and how I puked 30 minutes in. I was off to a good start.

There would be no puking today, but I quickly remembered why I never played golf in high school.

YOU HAVE TO WALK THE COURSE.

I choose to walk with the guys, because that's what teammates do. They bond. Casey, my well-known (seemingly personal) photographer, chooses to ride in a cart. She's not dedicated to the cause.

Plus, like, something about taking pictures and keeping track of her gear and stuff.

There are so many hills. There's so much grass. My bag is so heavy. By the second hole, I'm ready to jump on the cart with Casey and just take it easy on these old legs of mine.

But I push through.

I am envious of Aycock golfer Noah West though. He has a personal wheelie cart. It looks like it makes his life so easy. But then again, he's a teenager who got out of school early on 75-degree day to play golf. How tough can life be? Am I right?

There's six of us and we team up in groups of three to play best ball. Originally we were playing for fun, but on the third tee we decided to ramp up the competition and put a little wager down. We decided the winner would get a candy bar.

Oh, it's on now, boys.

Truthfully, I'm famous in my circle of friends for hitting things I shouldn't be hitting with my golf ball (ie: houses, cars, sometimes humans. One time I hit a deer that was in full sprint in the middle of the fairway. Sorry PETA).

They are always accidents, but it just seems like my ball has a magnet on it.

So today, I try to stay away from the houses and such.

Really, I only hit two truly awful shots all day. They were back-to-back shots that I hit on top of the ball and it rolled about 32 feet before resting in the rough. Thank goodness it's best ball.

On the fourth tee, I smoke my ball down the middle of the fairway. I walk back to the cart path to talk to Casey and am greeted by Elmore again.

"I think you're better at this than you are anything else," he said.

"I absolutely agree," I respond.

I'm the sixth-best golfer out there, but I make my fair share of contributions. I keep my drives in the fairway. I poke out a few decent iron shots. I even hole out a putt or two.

We were 1-under through seven holes, which I would say is good, but Bryce Jones' short game kept the other team on top at 2-under.

The kid is like Phil Mickelson around the greens.

After seven holes, it's getting late and I have to leave. I've got a long walk with this heavy bag back to the course and I'm not excited about it. Especially after my strap breaks and I have to carry my bag like it's a giant baby.

But so it goes, I say my good-byes and head to the clubhouse. Down one stroke. But I'm not big on gambling, no matter the reward. So I make sure my playing partners know when they get back to the clubhouse, they will all have a candy bar waiting on them.

It's the least I can do. They let me crash their practice.

I just hope they remembered to pick them up.

Allen Etzler is the News-Argus sportswriter whose grandfather always told him that in golf you 'drive for show and putt for dough.' He's also the News-Argus sportswriter who sucks at putting and always loses to his grandfather. He can be reached at aetzler@newsargus.com or follow him on Twitter @newsargusal.