When I was in 7th grade, my school decided to start a junior high golf team. Initially I had no interest in it whatsoever, but a few of my friends decided to try out, and they talked me into trying out as well. I had never played golf, aside from a few trips to the driving range with my dad and the occasional round of mini-golf, but I didn't let that deter me. I borrowed my dad's clubs and went to the tryouts.
The tryout was to play nine holes of golf at a local course. As I got on the bus, the coach, Mr. Marshall, gave me a quisitive look. Mr. Marshall was my social studies teacher, and had written me off as a clown (with good reason). "Mike, I didn't know you golfed", he said. "Oh yeah, it's a passion of mine", I replied. We arrived at the course, and Mr. Marshall addressed the 30 or so of us who were trying out. He went through the rules of the course, gave us instructions and the like. At one point, he told us that it would be crowded because the other junior high school in our district, Liberty, would also be holding tryouts. Liberty was our biggest rival, and playing up to this rivalry, I expressed my opinion that Liberty sucks. Mr. Marshall heard this and pulled me aside. "Mike, do you know anyonewho goes to Liberty?", he asked. I said that I did.
"And do they suck?"
"Well, yeah", I replied. Exasperated, Mr. Marshall told me that this was strike two against me. I asked what strike one was. "The fact that you are here is strike one. You are a troublemaker and I won't stand for it. One more slip up and you won't play golf, no matter how good you are." I laughed to myself, because he was apparently under the impression that I was a good golfer.
We divided up into foursomes, and I was with my friends. Everyone gathered around the first tee to start, and my group was the first to tee off. The coaches were busy with something, so all the prospective golfers were gathered around the first tee, talking loudly and goofing off. The first two guys in my group teed off, and then Mr. Marshall came over and shouted for everyone to shut up. He lectured all of us about the ettiquite of golf, and said that the loud talk and horseplay was a breach of that ettiquite. "Now", he said, "lets all be quiet and watch the next person tee off." Of course, I was the next up, and I realized that I suddenly had three dozen people watching me line up for my first ever golf shot. Trying to look like I knew what I was doing, I grabbed a tee and put in in the ground. I put a ball on the tee. I picked a few blades of grass and threw them in the air to test the wind. I grabbed my driver and took a practice swing. I then stepped forward, and trying to replicate the swing I had watched my friend, an experienced golfer, take, I swung hard at the ball and made contact. I turned to watch my shot, and to my surprise it flew high and straight and landed in the middle of the fairway, past where my friend's shot landed. "Excellent Mike, excellent", Mr. Marshall said as the crowd quietly clapped.
Of course, my luck didn't last. My approach shots went everywhere except the greens, my putts were awful, and none of the rest of my tee shots approached my first one. I stopped keeping score on the second hole, and just wrote down whatever my friend scored. Nearing the end, I had become the comic relief for the other three in my group, a role I was happy to fill. On the ninth and final hole, after a particularly bad shot, I chucked my club fourty feet down the fairway. As I bent to pick it up, Mr. Marshall drove up in a golf cart and said "That's strike three." I tried to protest, but to no avail. He saw me throw the club, and told me I wouldn't make the team. " At least let me finish the hole", I pleaded. He relented and said I could. "By the way, what are you shooting?", he asked. I looked at my scorecard, where I had been writing down my friends score as my own, and said '41' (which was very good for a 13 year old on this course). He shook his head and said, "It's a shame that such a talented golfer doesn't have enough self control to help the team." "Yes sir", I replied. He drove off, and I proceeded to six putt the final hole.
