Kinzua Hills

Far and away the greatest game of golf I have ever played took place here in the spring of '08. I say this, mind you, as a dedicated skeptic of the game and all it stands for. But it would be scandalously wrong of me to fail to state for the purposes of posterity how glorious of a game was had here after knocking off early from work one day with a couple of contractors hired for some nearby home improvement.

The April weather was, as usual for that month...looking questionable, but we vowed to course the remote greens of Kinzua no matter the consequence. Our dedication to afternoon sport was providentially rewarded with a robust squall of wet snow just as we arrived. Nevertheless we dutifully paid our fee and then manfully geared up for the excursion with clubs, balls, tees, cigars, and 12 year old scotch, which I discovered was the true purpose of the bag.

By the time we were in the field proper our eyes were beset by the stark expanse of a scene most seemingly Siberian in character. With our initial play at the first hole we immediately discovered that the only truly visible ball in our possession was a single one, and suddenly most valuable, of safety orange. Needless to say, the remainder of the game went much in this fashion but we did make the additional discovery that the entire game of golf can, in fact, be played with just the one particular club. I would be able to declare to you, dear reader, which club it turned out to be were it not for the overindulgence in matters Glenfiddich, and the fact that the participating fellow most unethically made off with the club in question the next day.

No, he is no longer on our Christmas list.