It was a ski trip, my first ever. I'm not sure what I was thinking, because I went with Keith and Duwayne, two guys who were masters on the black diamond slopes, which means I didn't see much of them. I had to start on the beginners' hill; I had to take a lesson. Going to Vail, Colorado for your first time skiing is a lot like going to Pebble Beach for your first time playing golf.
Yeah, it kicked my but.
I got home on a Friday and by the next Thursday I was off for a golf trip in Florida.
That was much better. Much more fun.
...
June 21, 1989
Chuck McChesney was a past club champion. He had played pretty well in the Middletown City tournament the week before at Weatherwax, when I did not. So let's just say he wasn't shaking in his shoes when we teed off tonight in the opening round of the Wildwood match-play club championship. He was one of the top seeds in the championship flight while I was way at the bottom. If this were a college basketball game, it was like the University of North Carolina playing Wooster College.
I don't think Chuck even bothered to take a practice swing. I certainly wasn't expecting much, either.
And then something happened.
I hit the middle of fairways, then hit the greens in regulation. With only one bogey on the front, I shot 37 and was actually up two on The Great One.
Then I did not let up, making par after par after par. He had his chances at making birdie, but never did. Meanwhile, I just never made a mistake.
I shot 72, and won, 3-and-2.
"Don't blow this," he said. "Don't go out and shoot 80 in the next round and get blown out."
Yep, you guessed it. That's exactly what I did. But I was on top of the world for a day...
...
This was heaven, high in the Rocky Mountains just outside of Aspen, on a beautiful sunny afternoon. I was there, alone, at a symposium by Windstar.
The idea was to be one with the Earth, far away from the noise and distractions found in town.
And boy, was it ever a peaceful spot, known to the locals as the Maroon Bells.
It was 5:30, Mountain Standard Time, and it occurred to me at that very moment the Franklin Wildcats were opening their football season before a packed house at home. I was sure there were thousands of people, a lot of music, and a lot of cheering.
And yet here I was, so far away from all of that. Just the night before, John Denver entertained everyone with a song, "The Wings That Fly Us Home," which has these words:
And the spirit fills the darkness of the heavens
It fills the endless yearning of the soul
It lives within a star too far to dream of
It lives within each part and is the whole
It's the fire and the wings that fly us home
Fly us home, fly us home
It fills the endless yearning of the soul
It lives within a star too far to dream of
It lives within each part and is the whole
It's the fire and the wings that fly us home
Fly us home, fly us home
Surely this is what heaven must be like.
