Fair enough. Guess I don’t have any double eagles then. Thanks for fighting ignorance, anyhow, guess I just assumed that the label the course gave it was the important thing.
That’s true, but note that the courses (at least the ones I play in eastern Pennsylvania) all make those determinations from the blue tees. If the shorter tees are less than that, they don’t worry about it - it’s still a par 5.
Being a 20+ handicap geezer, I play the whites. While most of the par 5s I play have their white tees in the 475-500 yard range, some of them are in the 440 range (but the blue tees are all in the “true” par 5 range). In fact, a couple of them aren’t much longer than 400 yards from the whites.
…and I still can’t get there in two. I guess there’s a reason why I play off of the white tees.
USGA guidelines, are just that, guidelines, and not a rule.
I have played a 450 yd par 5, that IMO, is a legitimate par 5 (albeit poorly designed). The tee-shot is a lay-up to a pond and can only be hit 200 max. That leaves 250 yds to green. I believe if a player wants to carry the pond, he has to hit about 320 in the air and not many players can do that.
Who would I tell? This was 18-20 years ago, and the Monsignor was OLD back then!
I think he’s passed away, so my only witness is gone.
I guess it will just have to be a nice memory for my golden years.
Like when I was a bartender at a strip club at age 22 or so.
Good times…
My dad scored a hole-in-one. He’s not a very good golfer, but he will go to great lengths to play. He plays an annual Good Friday tournament which in Chicago is sometimes in early March and amongst the snowflakes. What makes his hole-in-one notable is that no one actually witnessed it, not even him.
If I remember the story correctly, he and a group of coworkers went out at the crack of dawn one morning before work for a round of golf, probably 9 holes but I’m not sure. My dad worked construction for the phone company which means his day sometimes started at 6:30 AM or so, so this tee time was probably before 5 AM. This particular morning was extremely foggy and the balls disappeared into the gloaming pretty much right off the tee. The foursome made their shots on one of the par 3s and started walking around the lake towards the green to find their balls. They looked for about 10 minutes for my dads ball and it didn’t turn up. He dropped and started playing a penalty assuming the ball was in the lake or lost in the long grass. When the first guy went to tend the pin he discovered my dads ball in the cup. He spent most of the coming weeks convinced that the guys were just fucking with him so there was no celebration or a traditional toast at the 19th hole. Apparently it was legit.
I’m not much of a golfer either and I don’t play nearly as often as I’d like but I play often enough where I feel like I ought to have a few close calls by now. Perhaps my awful irons game is the issue. I am however a pretty big hitter and more consistent with my woods. On the 1st hole of Wedgewood GC in Joliet, a really straight 378 yard Par 4, I came about 18 inches from a Double Eagle though. I proceeded to miss the fucking putt and settle for a Birdie. Sigh.
I have one. Hit a 7-iron off the tee on a par 3, lost the ball in the air and didn’t see it hit the green. My father-in-law and brother-in-law didn’t see it, and Dangerosa said “I think it went into the hole.” I said “no, it rolled off the back.” I spent two minutes looking in back of the green before Dangerosa went up onto the green, pulled out the flag and popped the ball out.
I’d only been playing for a couple of years at the time, so I knew it was rare, but not how rare. Dangerosa’s uncle is a two-handicapper who’s been playing for over 40 years, and has no aces to show for it.
I don’t think I’ve ever shot a green in one.
Another opportunity to tell my “hole in one” story!
I was on the thirteenth hole. This was a very narrow elevated tee box (for the white tees, anyway) with trees pretty close on each side, widening out to a fairway that went out about 240 yards, then sharply doglegged right and rose up about 30 feet vertically over another 60 yards or so to the green.
I teed off, hitting a hugely powerful shot.
Unfortunately, it was a worm-burner: a loft of basically nothing , zooming along over the ground at about knee-high. And for good measure, I hit it off the toe of the club, so it was the world’s worst slice, to boot. So the ball, moving about a thousand miles per hour, hits one of the trees lining the tee box, bounces back over our heads, and lands on the twelfth green, the one we had just holed out a moment ago… and rolls into the cup.
Surprised the hell out of the guys that were putting.
I generally shoot in the mid 90s, but yes, I have a hole-in-one.
Par 3 7th hole (I think) at Paradise Knolls in Riverside, CA. It’s a straight shot into the wind from about 175 yards that I typically leave 10 yards short of the green cause I never select the right club. But on this day, I pulled out the 4 Iron and hit a towering draw that landed about 5 feet short right of the pin, bounced once or twice and rolled right in. From where we stood, my buddies and I could all see that it was close, but couldn’t be certain if it went in the hole or just behind the flag stick. Since I had hit first, we had to (very excitedly) wait for each of the other 3 to hit before jumping in the carts and racing up to the green.
Sure enough - [caddyshack] it’s in the hole! [/caddyshack]
Fortunately for me, the 19th hole was almost completely empty when we got there. I spent the whole back 9 worried about how much that shot was gonna cost me.