So, I woke up the other day, sun was kinda out, and I just got this itch, you know? Felt like swinging some clubs. Heard folks talking about Centennial down in Medford, never been. Figured, why not? Tossed my bag in the car, didn’t even really check tee times, just drove over hoping for the best.
Pulled into the parking lot. Looked pretty standard, lots of cars which either meant it was busy or just popular, maybe both. Headed into the shop to see what the deal was. Guy behind the counter was alright, pretty chill. Asked if they could squeeze a single out. He looked at the sheet, mumbled something, and said yeah, could probably get me off in about 20 minutes. Good enough for me. Paid the fee, grabbed a handful of tees ’cause I always forget mine.
Hitting the Course
Waited around a bit, hit a few putts on the practice green. Greens looked decent, kinda quick. Then they called my name. Walked over to the first tee. Always get a little jittery on the first tee, don’t know why. Just standing there, trying to look like I know what I’m doing.
Took a swing. Not terrible, actually. Stayed in the fairway. Okay, maybe this wouldn’t be a total disaster. The course itself? It was… a golf course. You know? Some holes were wide open, felt like you could blast away. Others were a bit tighter, made you think a little more. Or, in my case, think a little, then hit it into the trees anyway.
- Tried to hit a big drive on one of the par 5s. Big slice. Found it, eventually.
- Had a couple of decent iron shots that actually landed on the green. Shocking, I know.
- Putting was rough. Those greens were trickier than they looked on the practice green. Lots of three-putts. Story of my life.
The weather held up, which was nice. Wasn’t too hot, wasn’t too cold. Just a decent day to be outside walking around, hitting a little white ball. Didn’t play with anyone, just me and my thoughts. Sometimes that’s the best way. Pace was okay, waited a few times but nothing too bad. Saw some other groups, everyone seemed to be doing their own thing.
The Back Nine Grind
Made the turn, didn’t stop for anything, just kept going. Legs started feeling it a bit on the back nine. Think maybe I should walk more often. Or maybe just stick to the cart. Hit a few good shots, hit more bad ones. That’s golf, right?
Remember this one par 3, had water all down the side. Stood there forever trying to decide what club to hit. Pulled the trigger, watched the ball sail… right towards the water. Plunk. Oh well. Dropped another one, managed to get it on the green somehow.
Finished up on 18. Felt kinda tired but pretty good. Didn’t shoot my best score, definitely didn’t shoot my worst. Just played. Walked off the green, gave a nod to the group waiting. Didn’t bother cleaning my clubs, just threw ’em back in the trunk.
Driving home, I was thinking, it wasn’t anything fancy, really. Just a solid place to play golf. Got the itch, drove down, played 18 holes, went home. Sometimes that’s all you need. Would I go back? Yeah, probably. It did the job.
