( Just a little late for celebrating Halloween, I admit. I didn’t post this earlier because, you guessed it, I was out golfing)
There was a little something spooky about our round on Halloween day. A southern wind was blowing at nearly two-club strength but it was eerily warm, almost balmy. It was as if the golf gods were embracing us, sheltering us from the oncoming winter winds. We stood on the tee, on the last day of October, and knew we were in for a treat.
With the blessing of the foursome that was scheduled to tee off in front of us, we scooted out ahead of them. It was the last we saw of their group all day, as if they had been spirited away by goblins.
Apparently other evil spirits lurked, and had taken possession of my golf balls, my swing or maybe both. I couldn’t hit a thing from 100 yards in. Short, long, right, left – nothing was as it should be.
Nymphs in the woods grabbed a companion’s shots for hole after hole on the front, dashing out from the shadows and dragging the poor innocent balls off to a nether-world of leaves and pine needles, never to be seen again.
Putts rolled freakishly slow and then fast, breaking in unforeseen ways as if guided by an invisible hand. For good or for evil, onward we went, enjoying our round, despite our ghoulish play.
But things got really freaky when we made the turn. There was not a flag stick in sight, each and every one had disappeared!
Looking up to the tenth green we thought, at first, that an earlier group had simply neglected to replace the pin. Not so, we discovered, peering ahead at the wide and gaping, naked greens displayed like the blank stares of so many jack-o-lanterns.
Later we were assured they had not evaporated into thin air but rather had been removed by maintenance staff. Experience has proven that the pins make all too appealing Halloween props. Under the cover of darkness, flag sticks become javelins, swords and arrows and the greens transform to outdoor arenas too attractive to rambunctious gladiators, ninjas and youthful gangs of Merry Men.
The game got a little trickier as now our shots to every green were blind. We tried sending the one of our group with a cart up ahead to scout the hole placement. This helped a bit, until he mistook a sprinkler head for the hole and misdirected us all to the wrong side of the green (and yes, we do have a sprinkler head right smack on one of our greens, for some strange and unknown reason). After that we lost our faith in our fore-caddy but found a trust in our approach shots, easy now once the pressure of seeking the pin was gone.
Had it not been so late in the season this little game of peek-a-boo might have been more frustrating. But here we were, enjoying an enchanting round of golf on an inexplicably warm and sunny afternoon, flying along on a magic carpet of green, with the course to ourselves. Elsewhere frenzied parents hunted for the finishing touch for the perfect Halloween costume, made their third trip to the store for more candy to feed the incoming hordes, or were doing battle with a wee one already hopped up on a sugar buzz. We were simply golfing, so how could we complain?
Our round was far from perfect. We encountered a few more tricks than treats out there on the course that Halloween day. But looking back, it was not so unusual, after all, for a game we find so continuously full of mystique and intrigue.
Read more about golf courses known for their spooks and spirits.
