Michael Balkind - Sudden Death

Buddy handed Reid his wedge. He walked to the ball and took some practice swings. It was so steep that when he stood facing the hill, he could touch it without leaning over. The long grass grabbed at his club. If he didn’t follow through, his shot would end up short. Oh what the hell , he thought, I’m over-thinking this. Just do it. He assumed an awkward stance, swung his club and chopped into the hill. The ball flew straight up into the air and fell way short of the fairway, leaving the tree directly between him and the pin. There was a big “Ooohhh!” from the crowd. Reid looked at Buddy, frowned and shook his head in dismay. His ball was short of Howard’s, so it was still his turn. He studied his shot. The tree was huge, completely blocking his line to the green. He was going to have to slice it low and around the tree. Buddy gave him his two-iron, and he took a practice swing. He adjusted his stance so the ball was lined up with his front foot. Swinging hard, he hit the ball; it came around, but not enough, and after a few bounces, rolled into a greenside bunker.

Howard was up; he hit his ball onto the green about 15 feet from the pin.

They walked up to Reid’s ball; it was deep in the trap, about 20 yards away from the green. Using his wedge, his shot came to a stop just inside Howard’s. They both two putted; Howard for par, Reid for double bogey.

Reid’s drive on 15 was exceptional. His second shot, equally as good, put him on the dance floor. He putted in for a birdie. Howard’s par kept him ahead by one shot. They both parred the 16th, making it look easy. Howard ran into trouble on the 17th, the signature hole on the course, a 466-yard par four. His tee shot did not make the necessary turn on the dogleg-right fairway, making his second shot almost impossible. The approach shot had to carry over water to a medium-sized green. As soon as he hit it, he knew it was going for a swim. He bogeyed the hole while Reid shot a clean par. They were tied for the lead once again, with the next player four shots back. It was like a replay of the Master’s.

Howard hit a poor tee shot on the par five, 18th hole. Reid’s drive was very good, but his second shot was a disaster. The ring of guards had tightened around him. Until now, Reid’s emotions were as volatile as a small boat in high seas. The highs of a potential win were countered by the lows of potential death. But since he had come this far, his competitive nature took over and he became more determined than ever.

They were both on the green in four, but Howard’s putt was going to be much easier than Reid’s. As they walked to the green with the crowd applauding, Reid’s heart was pumping strong. His body tingled with the warm rush of blood through his veins. He loved this powerful feeling; it was his ultimate high. It was his body’s typical reaction to an impending win, and he craved the sensation.

The sun had fallen below the treetops. The men tipped their caps as they walked onto the shaded green. From the look of the balls’ positions, a betting man would have been happy if his money was on Howard. Reid had a long putt with a big break in his line. Howard had a five-footer that looked fairly straight. Reid knew he had to sink this putt or chances were that Howard would win. He studied his putt from various angles with Buddy. Crouching down about four yards behind his ball, he evaluated the break in the green. Standing behind him, Buddy leaned over Reid’s shoulder and mumbled, “Gotta hit it about nine inches to the left.” They both stood up and Buddy stepped away as Reid lined up for his putt. He took a few practice swings, looking from the ball to the hole and back. He had nothing but sinking the putt on his mind. At the moment, nothing else in the world existed. His focus was absolute. He was in the zone. He pulled his putter back and hit the ball; he had read it well; the ball broke slightly to the right and curved as it rolled toward the hole. Reid held his breath. From the lack of any sounds, it seemed as if the entire crowd was holding their’s, as well. The ball slowed as it neared the hole. It was the perfect putt…or was it? Stopping at the edge of the cup, it actually looked like it was going to fall in. Reid grimaced and walked slowly toward the hole, hoping the ball would drop by the time he reached it. No such luck. A collective, “Oohh,” came from the gallery. Reid tapped it in for a painful bogey and sighed. In the back of his mind, he couldn’t help thinking, Well, at least I’m going to live to see Shane later.

Those watching him saw a reaction never before seen on Reid’s face during a pending loss. He was smiling.

After a quiet round of applause, it was Howard’s chance to win the tournament. He studied his putt with his caddie, whose hand signal showed a straight shot. Howard walked up and took a few practice swings. He looked extremely nervous. He lined up and hit his shot straight; it rolled in a perfect line, then broke and stopped just left of the hole. The crowd moaned. Howard covered his face with his hands; he couldn’t believe he missed. He walked up and knocked in the ball, matching Reid’s bogey.

Reid walked over and patted Howard on the back. “New match, huh? Sudden death!”

The crowd was huge; people everywhere scrambled to the next hole for good position.

After the announcer explained the sudden death playoff, both men hit excellent drives down the middle of the fairway. Howard was first to hit his second shot, and with just the right touch, he landed it on the green. They walked another 15 yards to Reid’s ball. He lined up, went through his preshot ritual and swung. His shot landed on the hill just to the left of the green and kicked right, ending on the dance floor, too.

Reid walked to the green, flanked by his tight circle of security, as the crowd cheered. Howard had a 14-foot putt. Reid was about three feet closer to the pin on the same line. Reid marked his ball’s position and stepped away, leaving Howard to study his putt. Reid was pleased, knowing he would get an education from Howard’s putt. Howard walked to his ball and took a few gentle practice swings. He lined up, slowly brought his putter back and swung through the ball. It rolled, broke a little toward the hole and slowly stopped about three inches short. Howard’s body slumped as the crowd moaned. He walked to his ball in aggravation and tapped it in for par.

Reid was up. He and Buddy studied the putt from both sides. Having watched Howard’s putt gave Reid a tremendous advantage. He saw the break and just had to follow it with the right speed. Howard had hit the right shot just a little too soft. Reid stepped up and took a couple of practice swings. He closed his eyes for a moment, raised his head to the sky and took a deep breath. He looked down at the ball, then to the hole, then back down again. He pulled his putter back and hit his putt. The ball rolled, following the same break as Howard’s, slowing a little on its journey.

Suddenly, a loud shot rang from the woods. Reid felt something slam into his chest. He was knocked off his feet and flew backward crashing to the ground. He felt the tremendous weight of his bodyguards as they landed on top of him. Each one squeezed out a little of what air he had left in his lungs. He felt intense searing pain in his chest. His head felt as if it had exploded. He couldn’t breath. His gasps for air were fruitless. The pain was unbearable. He thought, So this is what it feels like to die.

Shane, Joan and the others arrived at the hospital 20 minutes after the Medivac helicopter had delivered Reid. Tension and tears filled the waiting area. Was Reid alive?

Fifteen agonizing minutes later, there was still no news. Buck, who had been sitting alone in absolute silence, could wait no longer. He stood up, walked to a nurse in the hallway and asked abruptly, “Excuse me, we need information. Reid Clark has been in the emergency room for more than 30 minutes and we have no idea what’s going on. Is he alive? Is he going to live? Get a doctor out here now, please.” “Sir, please stay calm, I’ll…” Buck cut her off, “Calm? I am calm. Believe me, you’d know it if I were upset. Look, I don’t want a lecture; I want a doctor, now .” “I’m sorry, sir. Let me see what I can do.” She turned and walked briskly through the oversize double doors. Another 10 minutes passed, but there was still no word. The hushed, somber atmosphere was broken only by an occasional sob. Some sat quietly; others tried to console each other. All had moist tissues in their hands.