It wasn't the lowest score ever. It was just the series of events as I connected and reconnected with my true guiding force, some force outide of myself that when you stand on the tee, your body knows exactly what it's doing and the mind gets out of the way. Routine, yes. Good habits, etc. But, there's the unexplicable. And of course, that means I can't explain it.
So, it's hole #12 at DeLaveaga and I'm sitting 1 over. I need birdies and hole 12 is just that. Thumber thuds by the pin. Get the bags on. No sign of the disc, until down in the fridge, there it is, the green monster that rolls away far too often. It's not going to be a birdie, I say to myself. Get down there - shitty stance due to fridge. High spin up hill and overcooked it. Flies the green, lands 20 feet. Tough par to follow, but I've made it before. Weak side miss (uphill) then disc hits and rolls 100-125 feet away, down in the "chimes" sticks. Way down in the shadows, blind to the pin. Grab two discs for overhead shot. Get there. I'm pissed. Window is 15 feet above me. No thought, overhead, beat Omega SS direct to chains and stays. For bogey. Insane. Derek saw it. Insane. Couldn't wuite function because of the miracle of all of it.
Was listening to Deepak Chopra the other day. He has a book (availbale on audio) about ball golf. He calls luck by a woman's name -- Shakti.
Shakti fucked the hell out of me on that one. What a bitch.