I haven’t played golf with my friends for several weeks now because of my cataract surgeries. So when it was suggested we play a season-ending round on Monday, I was in! The weather was supposed to be mid to high fifties and sunny. I put on a couple of light layers, filled my water bottle, and went to the garage to load my clubs. First, I put on my golf shoes, then I grabbed the golf bag to toss it into the rear of the car. Wham! I felt a blinding pain across my forehead. I staggered back holding my hand to my head and when I looked at my hand, there was blood on it. Apparently, the rear lid to my hatchback was not in a fully raised position, and I struck it with my head causing a four-inch gash right in the middle of my already wrinkled brow.

I ran back into the house and grabbed a paper towel and applied pressure. My wife came into the bathroom to see what was going on. With blood running down my forehead, I asked her to get the first aid box. We found a big gauze square and some tape, and I patched myself up. Now I was going to have to hustle to get to the golf course on time.

I raced to the course, arriving a few minutes before our scheduled tee time. I did not see any of my buddies, and immediately knew what happened. You see, our leader likes to get going, so if a tee opens up, even if it’s before the appointed time, he’ll gather the group and go. I went into the golf shop, confirmed that my guys had just teed off, paid my green fees, and the pro shop guy said he’d take me out to where they were. We jumped into a cart and raced and bounced our way down the middle of the first fairway to where my friends were preparing to hit their second (or third in some cases) shot. Laughter ensued when I showed up. They kept laughing even when I showed them the hospital-sized bandage on my head.

The course allowed us to play as a six-some. I’ve rarely had as much fun as I did that day. On a couple of holes, two brothers in our group did a synchronized simultaneous tee off. To see their shots cross high in the sunny sky was a thing to behold. I had a few good hits and an amazing putt from the fringe that dropped for a par. (The rest of my round was not great, but that was because of my normal lack of skill, not the head wound.)

Afterward, with blood now seeping through my bandage, a couple of us went to the grill for the traditional cheeseburger and beer, a chance to review the highs and lows of the game, talk little about church, and celebrate the end of a season well-enjoyed.

Only then did I go to the walk-in clinic, where they cleansed the laceration, glued it shut, and gave me a tetanus shot. It’s gonna be an ugly scar, but with a good story to go with it.