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by Raymond Weaver
As I stood on the 18th green at Inverness
Country Club, I looked at the scoreboard. It indicated that J.S.
Peterson and I, Ray Weaver, were tied at the annual Seaway Foodtown
Golf Outing.
It had been one of those days when my golf
game was at its very best. As it stood, I was now only 12 feet from
knocking in a birdie putt to make the championship mine.
So much had happened to me in the last
nine months. I had joined an up-and-coming grocery chain and I was
in line to become its sales manager. What I had liked best about my
present job were the perks like health insurance and a company car.
Yes, everything was looking pretty good for a 25-year-old guy who
was dating the company president's daughter.
Now, all I had to do was to knock in this
putt and my name would be on that huge trophy. Our company
president, Wally Iott, had invited the owners of several companies
that we did business with for the big golf outing. J.S. Peterson
was the president of Chief's Super Markets.
My partner finished tapping his par putt
in, turned to me and said, "Let's see you knock yours in,
Ray."
A birdie on the 17th hole had put me in a
tie with Peterson. As I reached my hand out to my caddie for my
putter, he said, "Birdie and you win. Par and you have a play-off
hole. Bogey, you'll wind up in second place.
"You're aware that Peterson has won this
event for the past two years? And I have to tell you that I heard a
rumor that Peterson's company is going to merge with Seaway
Foodtown."
My caddie, Jimmy Watts, who worked in the
mallroom, always seemed to know every movement that our company was
planning to make.
My hands started to sweat and I felt
cramps in my stomach, as I realized that Peterson could soon be my
new boss.
I looked across the green and saw both
Iott and Peterson, with their arms folded, standing next to the
silver trophy. Suddenly, I was faced with a dilemma
— which was more important — winning the
trophy or getting the promotion?
"Your putt is downhill, Ray. No pin to
stop it. This should be an easy shot for you," Jimmy whispered.
I approached the ball quickly. With one
quick stroke, I tapped the ball. It rolled slowly and then picked
up speed. Faster and faster it started to roll straight for the
hole. I closed my eyes and waited to hear the sound of the ball
falling into the cup.
After a few seconds, I heard only a long
"Aw—" from the crowd. I opened my eyes and saw that I had
missed my birdie putt. In fact, my next putt was going to be even
longer than the previous one. I quickly putted and came up a foot
short. My bogey on the 18th hole put me in second place.
At the award ceremony, it was announced
that J.S. Peterson would get his name on the trophy cup for the
third consecutive year. Now, it was his to keep. As for me, I
received a small plaque,
As I headed toward the clubhouse, a voice
called out, "Nice round, Ray. Say, I need a partner for the pro am
in two weeks. How about joining me?" Peterson asked.
He walked up to me and put his arm around
my shoulders. I smiled and replied, "It would be my honor,
sir."
"And by the way, Wally and I decided that
you are a shoe-in for that promotion."
I wondered how many people knew that I was
really trying to make that putt. Or was I?
Raymond Weaver is a Clearwater
resident.
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