Greater Things

It was a difficult shot, even for the veterans.
The air was crisp and cool, as it should be for this time of the morning in early spring.
The sun had just barely awoken over the horizon and wasn’t strong enough yet to chase the dew away.
Carlita muttered to herself as she eyed the flag about 120 yards away.
“Trees gonna clip the shot”, she said.
Her father smiled quietly. “No worries baby. Flag’s always going to be there. Its your call how you want to play the shot.”
Carlita shifted her weight. She had been up since the before sunrise. But walking the course with her father was something she wouldn’t have missed for the world.
She looked up at the trees, then at the rapidly brightening sun. The clouds seem to part at that particular moment like a thin veil rising. The sun smiled more brightly at Carlita.

Two years ago, no one in the family would have even imagined that Carlita amounted to anything in sports. She was mediocre at best, with a preference for swimming. Actually, nothing pleased Carlita more than battling goblins or dueling Jedi on her game console. Not really sport, but definitely more exciting and less sweaty.
Then one weekend she had wondered into her uncle’s garage and found an old set of clubs. Curious and bored, she pulled out one of the irons. She’d heard enough about the game to know that this is what is used to hit the ball with. She rummaged thorugh the bag. There must a ball in here somewhere. Bingo! Two yellowish balls. Her uncle wouldn’t mind if she had a hit. He was always saying how wonderful a sport this was.

Carlita timed her breathing unconciously.  In her mind, she could see the ball sailing pass the grasping fingers of the trees to plonk itself down just at the edge of the green. “That’s my shot”, she said to herself.
Everything was balanced now. Carlita made the shot a reality. The ball rolled forward another few metres stopping withing a tap from the flag. She smiled at her father. The game was hers. Might as well be the best birthday present too, for a 9 year old.

~ by macrocosm on October 4, 2008.