For decades, golf has been described as the quintessential microcosm of life. The potency of this claim was supported by one of the world's greatest players, Tiger Woods, in an interview on the Oprah show, where he shared his belief that the lessons of golf are useful for producing a quality life, and noble character. In "Eighteen Wholes" Clayton Dunham provides a dramatic examination of this worn golf truism through artful juxtapositions of life's trials and tribulations to applicable golfing principles. Through an exhilarating story of romance, mystery, tragedy, and competition on the links, Dunham manages to draw on golfing principles in a powerful way to examine many of the mysteries of life and effective principles for dealing with marriage, infidelity, trust, corporate politics, and human fallibility. In Dunham's hands, competitions on lush fairways become a link to vivid insights into the meaning of life and the search for God.
I coiled my body and then released all that constrained energy into the bulging end of my golf club. The sound was melodic. Ting! No note ever played on any musical instrument could sound more beautiful than the reverberation of a well-struck golf ball. Good golfers can distinguish between good shots and bad ones by the sound alone. This one sounded note-perfect. The ball traveled a hundred yards in the blink of an eye. It was creasing the air far down the fairway even before I could turn my head to locate it in the sky. In symphonic approval my buddies exclaimed, ?Golf shot!? ?Fly, baby, fly!? I whispered. I smiled as I posed in my follow-thru, as if waiting for the camera shutters to finish clicking. Yes, it was a thing of beauty I had created with my hands, my mind, and my entire being. The four of us observed the ball?s flight in reverent silence as if watching a miracle unfold. The ball kept climbing as it followed its invisible track to the target area I had selected, some two hundred fifty yards from the tee box. Falcon-like, the ball cut through the air, following a perfect flight plan. Suddenly and unexpectedly, I felt a cool sensation on the back of my neck as a gust of wind, as blustery as it was unexpected, evaporated beads of perspiration. A rush of wind on the ground is often a hint of hurricane-like forces higher in the sky. Worry pierced me like an arrow shot from a compound bow. My worry was justified. I watched in abject disgust as my perfectly fired missile began curving to the right, first subtly, and then with greater urgency. The windy fingers of the sky thumped my ball playfully along a new uncharted path, a path to fairway hell. The ball?s momentum was sucked away by the unfriendly breeze. It began its reentry to earth as if it had fired retro-rockets; falling at an ugly angle toward the mammoth ball-grabbing ?cat box?, on the right side of the fairway. I swallowed hard hoping things would turn out better than my eyesight was reporting. I whispered sweet nothings and urgent pleadings to my ball drifting out there away from my influence in the sunny distance. ?Come on sweetheart. Be good to me. Don?t hurt me, baby. Don?t cheat on me. Come on, fly,? I adjured. I watched her ignore my pleadings with irreverent indifference; and then, thunk! She hit hard just inside the forward lip of the bunker?the worst place in the bunker it could have landed?and it cratered itself deep into the fine powder. Certain my ball was buried deep in the sand?a ?fried egg?; my sweet nothings quickly became foul-mouthed invectives. ?You cheating witch, dirty whore,? I growled. ?Good grief!? Not only did I have a ?fried egg? for my next shot, but the ball was planted near the lip of the bunker, which meant I would have to get it up into the air quickly to even get out of that hellhole; a shot that would dramatically tax my skills. I had played five near-perfect holes up to now and hit a great drive to start this, the sixth. My reward for such fine execution was my beautifully belted drive blown off course by unexpected winds, leaving me in a terrible position for my second shot. Golf truly imitates life, I thought. Just when things are going well, from out of nowhere, disaster strikes, things change for the worse, hopes get dashed, fiery adversity rains down from the heavens, and tragedy chokes you silly. My unexpected misfortune on this golf hole suddenly reminded me of the misfortune that had befallen me in my personal life. The ill winds of fate had blown my life as far off course as the unexpected breezes had altered the flight of my golf ball.
About Clayton Dunham, Ph.D
Clayton Dunham, Ph.D is a student of the human condition, wielding the written craft to enrapture the mind much like an artist wields a brush. His stories search the deep underpinnings of life, love, and God. He uses the written word the way a movie maker uses film to draw from a talent heralded by many and matched only by an imagination prepared to soar into revelation. Eighteen Wholes is the third in a series of recent pursuits, with work progressing quickly on the fourth.
For decades, golf has been described as the quintessential microcosm of life. The potency of this claim was supported by one of the world's greatest players, Tiger Woods, in an interview on the Oprah show, where he shared his belief that the lessons of golf are useful for producing a quality life, and noble character. In "Eighteen Wholes" Clayton Dunham provides a dramatic examination of this worn golf truism through artful juxtapositions of life's trials and tribulations to applicable golfing principles. Through an exhilarating story of romance, mystery, tragedy, and competition on the links, Dunham manages to draw on golfing principles in a powerful way to examine many of the mysteries of life and effective principles for dealing with marriage, infidelity, trust, corporate politics, and human fallibility. In Dunham's hands, competitions on lush fairways become a link to vivid insights into the meaning of life and the search for God.
Clayton Dunham, Ph.D is a student of the human condition, wielding the written craft to enrapture the mind much like an artist wields a brush. His stories search the deep underpinnings of life, love, and God. He uses the written word the way a movie maker uses film to draw from a talent heralded by many and matched only by an imagination prepared to soar into revelation. Eighteen Wholes is the third in a series of recent pursuits, with work progressing quickly on the fourth.