We were playing in a Friday evening Scotch (alternate shot, alternate gender scramble), on June 14, 2013, and had reached our last hole.

The hole itself is 155-yards, uphill, to a two-tiered green (for those who follow women's professional golf, it's the 5th hole at Locust Hill Country Club, site of the Wegman's LPGA Championship for the last few years). The putting surface is out of sight from the tee. The pin was down in front, and the shot was a baby cut 6-iron.

When I hit the ball (a Pro V1), I thought "That looks pretty good; the girls should have a reasonably makeable birdie putt." I even made that comment to my wife when we got in the cart. The other three guys hit: one pulled left and short, one pushed right and short, and one in the trap in front of the green.

When we got to the green, there was no ball in sight. It being a social event, the rest of the group were kind of standing near the carts, talking, finding clubs, etc., so I started looking. I knew it wasn't in either trap, and it looked way too good to be over the green.

Several times in almost 30 years of playing golf I've reached the green thinking "Maybe this is the time.", only to find the ball in the rough over the green. Knowing that the shot was too good to be over, I walked slowly to the hole, with a smile no one else could see, again, thinking "Maybe." When I saw my ball in the hole, I raised my arms in the air and yelled. I had seven witnesses, including my wife and our closest friends. As one might expect, there were high-fives and hugs and lots of drinks afterward.

I've had a few days to digest it: the ace, the congratulations, the name in the local paper. No question, the actual feat was enormously satisfying (especially since my brother had had TWO). I have come to realize, however, that the better part of it was the company: it would be cool no matter who the witnesses were, but it's even better that it was with friends.