New leaderboard built by Jack Sanders (Photo by Sartah Karney)
My earliest memory of Butler Pitch & Putt is of mosquitoes and shame. Mosquitoes because the course ran parallel to West Bouldin Creek, where heat and insects rose from the water. Shame because I was a terrible player. My 11-year-old arms hacked much more grass than golf balls.
The swings of my dad and older brother were athletic, leisurely. It was a simple course, they said. Just a par 3. Hole after hole their balls sank into the white cups. Mine flew into brambles of trees, rolled into other golfers fareways, or did not move at all. By the ninth hole, the excuses – I had dirt in my eye! It s too hot! I can t do it when you re watching me! – ran dry. There was nothing left but the quiet indignity of climbing back into the car, covered in dirt.