Judy Onken
Hi! My name is Bixby. I live in a front pocket of a golf bag belonging to a lady who plays in the Cottonwood Ladies Golf Association. Yep, I’m a golf ball. Since November, 2022, I’ve been hit in the forehead, hooked, sliced, and, on occasion, hit smack dab solidly. It is not uncommon to find me on the short, green grass, usually called the fairway, but invariably a long way from final destination, which is a round hole 4.25 inches in diameter. I have a girth of 1.68 inches and weigh at least 1.62 ounces. Some of my British ancestors before 1990 were smaller, but we live in a world of conformists, and the human race that employs us seems hellbent to “even the playing field.” The CLGA has about 80 ladies who have golf bags with front pockets where other golf balls take part-time residence. Many of us are white, but there is diversity provided by shades of pink, green, yellow, blue, speckled, and otherwise marked intentionally with initials, dots, stars, butterflies, and logos of various manufacturers and organizations. We get along great with each other!
Since November, we’ve enjoyed a myriad of games, such as Christmas Scramble, Match Play, CottonVerde, Member/Guest, Eclectic, and many more. But each time it seems that the goal is to get this round, dimpled, cylindrical object into a small, distant hole. It appears rather repetitive, because once in the hole, the ladies just remove me and others like me, move on, and start the process all over again. And they do this 18 times in what is called a “Round.” Sometimes the trip between the starting position and the finishing position is rather adventurous. We’ve all been in the “rough,” on the rocks, in the sand, and in the dreaded lakes. Sometimes we are close enough to the edge of the lake that we can be retrieved to again be smacked toward that elusive small hole.
Thursdays are special days for us, as we listen to our owners bemoaning the state of, or sometimes absence of, their skill. Those conversations pale when compared to the camaraderie displayed and the sheer joy of sharing time out of doors with a community of shared interests. At this time of year, many of my compatriots are traveling to faraway places, seeking cooler climes. Some are escaping to Vancouver, some to Alberta, some to Toronto. Many are destined to Washington State, Oregon, Montana, and Michigan. Wherever summer travel takes us, we look forward to returning to Sun Lakes and the renewal of our sisterhood in the fall. This is true for members of CLGA as well as all the Bixbys in our golf bags.