Page 113 of Putting Out
No, she decided. She wasn’t going home today. She was having too much fun.
The pin placement was in the front edge of the green. To miss it long meant a speedy, downhill putt. But there wasn’t enough green to work with to try and get the ball in front of the hole. To the right or left either way she was going to need to be close, and that meant she needed to slam this ball down the fairway.
“Give me the driver.”
“You’ve been hitting three wood on this hole.”
“I need to go a little longer.”
“This dogleg's a little to the left. If you slice this, you’re going to be in trouble.”
Reilly looked at Kenny and saw his concern. She’d been trying to play it safe on every hole, but the bogey cost her. She needed to take a chance.
“Driver.”
Reilly placed her ball and picked the spot in the distance where she wanted to go. She took a deep breath and swung. The impact sounded good and when she followed the path of the ball she was pleased with its direction.
“Nice swing,” Kenny said as he took the driver from her.
She wiped the sweat from her forehead. Step one accomplished. She took her visor off, a soft pink one that read Girl Power on the brim and tried to think about her next shot. When she got to the ball she saw she was in perfect shape with a great angle at the hole. There was a bunker on the left, but as long as she was accurate it shouldn’t be an issue.
“Nine iron.”
“Wind is coming at you a little. You might want to go lower,” Kenny suggested.
“Nah, I want to whack this thing. A nine will work.”
Kenny handed her the club and stood back. Reilly addressed the ball. Found the flag. Visualized exactly where she wanted to land the ball and swung. The crack of the clubface hitting the ball registered. It sounded heavy, but when she looked up to find the white speck in midflight, she saw it was on course. It dropped and from downhill, she could hear the crowd in the stands surrounding 18 roar.
It was close.
Walking up to the green she registered the applause and the cheers but tried to tune it out. One putt, one putt away from the weekend was all she needed to focus on.
Standing off on the side of the green she watched her playing partners putt out. Both of them were at plus six and had no chance of making the cut. Out of courtesy, they each finished to give her the stage. She could see the field commentator, who had been following her all day, urge the cameraman into position even as he whispered into his sensitive microphone about how he believed the putt would break.
Reilly sort of wished she could hear him. Looking at the rolling green in front of her she figured the putt was about seven feet away on the right side of the hole and for the first time in her life, she couldn’t determine which way the green would break at the cup. Squatting down, she cupped her hands over the visor and stared at the grass trying to divine the path the ball would follow.
She felt Kenny behind her and knew he was doing the same.
“I can’t see it,” she said. “I don’t know which way…”
“To the left. Only about two inches. I’ve seen this putt a million times on tape. It’s going to break to the left.”
Reilly stood and turned to face Kenny. “The left?”
He stared at her hard. “Reilly, I know you’ve never taken my read on a putt in your whole life, but I swear to you the putt is going to break left.”
“This is for all the marbles,” she reminded him. “The only way to guarantee the weekend.”
“Left.”
“Left,” she sighed. She took the putter in her hands, steadied herself over the ball. She swung the putter gently a few times to get a sense of the speed and then lined up over the ball. Head down, she looked at the hole. She looked at the ball. She looked at the hole. She concentrated on total stillness. Making the gentlest of motions to move the putter into action. She tapped the ball and watched it roll closer, closer, closer … and then it broke ever so slightly … to the left.
She watched it drop and the overwhelming sense of relief was enough to make her knees tremble.
The crowd leaped to its feet and the sound of Reilly Carr making the cut to play the weekend could be heard around the course.
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