Trophies

I never got a trophy when I was a kid. My parents were not that supportive or encouraging with us to get involved in extra curricular activities. I'm assuming it's because they both grew up in Chicago, and organized sporting activities was probably not as prevalent as it was when I was a kid and as it is more so even today.

When I was 14 or 15 years old, I used to enjoy going to the local miniature golf place, Putt-Putt. Putt-Putt wasn't the average miniature golf establishment. They didn't have the obstacles on the course to distract the shooter's score/ability. Putt-Putt was a game of bank shots, hills, and "green" mastery.

I used to go there a few times a week. My parents would drop me off, I'd stay there for a couple of hours, and then I'd go home. I never did this activity with friends. Just me, my personal putter, and the other lone players on the course that day.

Putt-Putt would host weekly contests and typically, there was not much of a turnout. There would usually be five our six people in the match, with a trophy going to the number one player of the week. The number one player usually had a score well below par, and it was never a kid, like me.

But that didn't stop me from trying. I was determined to get better and determined to win a trophy. It was neat looking award. The bronze figure, bent over as if getting ready to tap a hole in one, screwed nicely into a white piece of marble. The small plaque read, "First Place, Elk Grove Village, Putt-Putt." The trophy wasn't personalized, but whoever won it, I imagined, was the envy of friends and family.

I entered the contest no less than eight times one season. Each time, coming close to the grand prize, but never leaving with anything more than a sturdy handshake and words of encouragement from the owner.

On my last try for the season, summer was almost over and school was starting soon, it had rained most of the day, deterring people from leaving their dry homes for a silly miniature golf competition. But not me. I got my mom to take me anyway. Determined that the odds were in my favor.

When I arrived, there was only one other person insane enough--like me, I guess--to care enough about winning. Neither of us knew one another, but we sized each other up by the equipment we possessed. My competitor did not have his own club, like me, he did not have the fancy suction cup at the end of his pole, like me, he did not wear a glove on his left hand, like me. I was convinced this was my day for victory.

My competitor was older than me, probably in his 20's, and he was good. We remained two under par through all of the first round, I took the lead during the second with another two under to his par, and during the final round, we were tied going into the 18th hole. I think he could tell I really wanted to win, although I was too shy to say anything. The manager who walked with us knew me and kept encouraging me throughout the game.

My opponent went first, tapping the ball just hard enough to get it up the steep hill on the hardest hole of the course. It was the hole that offered a free prize if you got a hole in one, which was virtually impossible. His ball veered to the right, enough to make the shot in two. I fared a similar fate, but my ball took the opposite direction. It was down to the tape to see who went next. I was closer and what should have been an easy tap in for two, became a miss and a three. I hit my ball in on the second try and was victorious. My first trophy!

The victory wasn't anything like I imagined it would be. My parents and brothers barely offering a word of congratulations when I showed them my prize. It wasn't like I won the Little League World Series or anything.

It was merely a silly miniature golf trophy, one that followed me from box to box after I graduated college, moved to Arizona and back, moved from an apartment in the city to a townhome in the suburbs, to a couple of more houses in the suburbs and beyond.

I live a few miles from the old Putt-Putt that has been closed and For Sale for a couple of years. Too bad. I'd love to try and see if I still got it. See if I could get another trophy to replace the one I finally tossed in a fit of downsizing desperation.