The MRNA Open

Ruth’s birthday is April 11th.  She would be 76 this year.

Elizabeth has flown in for her mom’s birthday.  She’s here for the week-end and we’ll be going out for dinner on Tuesday. We’ll have Italian as that was one of Ruth’s favorites.

A group of Florida friends will be playing the first ever MRNA (Mom, Ruth, Nana, Altogether) Open on Monday.  We’re playing one of The Villages executive courses, Sarasota. It’s going to be a two-person scramble.  The teams have been organized by handicap.  We’re trying to make it fun and fair.

For most of her golf career, Ruth relied on three clubs.  If the course didn’t require a golf bag, she just carried them in her hand.  Her go to club was her five iron.  She carried that, a three wood with rails, and a putter.  If things weren’t going well, she just picked up.  She wanted to have fun and never stressed about her game.

Several years ago, we were staying at a golf resort in Sebring, Florida.  She threw her three clubs in my golf bag.  We drove from Michigan, but she didn’t want to bring her bag.  She wasn’t sure she was going to play.  Upon arrival we discovered we had a single day to play the course.  They were playing a LPGA golf tournament later that week, so the course would be closed to the public.  Several pros had arrived in advance, and we hoped to meet a couple. We took advantage of the opportunity and teed it up.

The opening hole was a parr five about 460 yards long.  It’s the only hole I recall playing that day.  There were two couples playing in the group in front of us, while Ruth and I were a twosome.  We each had to have a golf bag, and since Ruth didn’t have one, the course lent her a small carry bag.  It was the type you might see someone place two or three clubs to carry to the green. It was so small she just hung it on the back of the cart.  It wasn’t tall enough to strap on, but it allowed her to conform to the local rule.

Ruth teed off with her three wood, hitting it about eighty yards. She followed that with several shots with her five iron.   Some went left, some right.  Those who poke fun call that Army golf.  You know, left, right, left, right. She was lying six with 120 yards left to go.  The foursome on the green was putting, and since Ruth hadn’t hit anything longer than eighty yards, she took a swing and nailed it.  The ball landed on the front of the green, took one bounce, and rolled right between the legs of one of the ladies.   It stopped about a foot from the cup for a “tap in”.  We couldn’t believe the shot and drove directly to the green to apologize to the foursome for hitting into them.

As soon as Ruth said, “I’m sorry”, one of the men said, “Don’t apologize.  It’s wonderful having a tour pro playing behind us.”  He shook Ruth’s hand and walked away.  He’s probably still telling his grandkids the story about shaking hands with a lady golf pro.

One year we played in a golf tournament on a Villages executive course’s celebration of Valentines’ Day.  We were paired with a couple we didn’t know and had a great time.  One of the holes featured a “circle of love”.  If you hit your shot into the chalk lined circle, it was deemed to be in the hole.  Ruth took the concept a bit further and suggested that each of our longest putts be considered our personal circle of love. If you made a ten-foot putt, all ten-foot putts were considered to be in the hole.  We shot a lot of low scores that day.

During this year’s MRNA Open, we’ll have a prize for the team with the lowest score, a closest to the pin hole, and the final hole will feature the “circle of love”.  MRNA wouldn’t have it any other way.