Three Unlucky Aces

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Dear readers, after our Hole in None story, we received some great submissions from our CCC community who’ve shared some charity ace nightmare stories of their own - but in these cases the insurance company was the bad guy. It seems nothing bonds golfers like watching dream shots turn into paperwork disasters, especially when insurance adjusters arrive with magnifying glasses and rulebooks.

Here are three of the most painful submissions - each a reminder that in charity golf, even when you beat astronomical odds, someone’s always waiting with a clipboard.

The Borrowed Club

At a certain Denver-area scramble, “Dave M.” faced a 165-yard shot over water. He had recently misplaced his 7-iron in a tree after helicoptering it after a bad shot, so he borrowed one from his playing partner. The swing was pure - a towering draw that landed softly, hopped once, and disappeared into the cup.

Chaos erupted. His foursome lifted him like he’d just won the Masters. Photographers rushed to capture the BMW giveaway shot. The local dealer was already drafting press releases, ready to turn him into the face of the tournament.

Then the insurance rep arrived. Word of the “borrowed club” had spread as a ‘crazy, right?’ note to the story. The crazier part is what came next: “All shots must be struck with contestant’s own equipment,” he read aloud. Didn’t matter that the swing, stance, and nerves were Dave’s. The 7-iron wasn’t. Claim denied. The BMW rolled back to the lot, and Dave was left with a story that gets funnier with bourbon - but never quite stops stinging. The lesson? Never borrow clubs when cars are on the line.

The Bathroom Break

On a downhill par-3 at a Southern California charity event, “Mark P.” flushed the shot of his life. His 6-iron never left the flag, releasing toward the cup and disappearing from sight into the hole. His group erupted as though he’d won the U.S. Open. The prize? $75,000 big ones. Enough money to pay off his kid’s tuition and finally redo the kitchen his wife had begged about for years.

Except both spotters - the official witnesses - had stepped away at the same time to use the porta-potty. Bad timing, worse consequences.

Mark’s foursome swore affidavits, reenacted the moment, marched to the clubhouse in unified protest. The insurance company shrugged. “No witnesses, no payout.” He hired lawyers, fought for eight months, and eventually settled for less than $10,000 - a lowball check that barely covered his legal fees.

The real tragedy? The spotters returned thirty seconds later, wiping their hands, missing golf immortality by the length of a bathroom visit. Insurance companies, it seems, can spot a missing witness from a mile away - but can’t seem to answer their phones when you call to file a claim.

The Wrong Markers

At a Midwest member-guest, confusion reigned. The $50,000 contest sign sat between two sets of tees like it couldn’t make up its mind. Most players assumed the front markers were correct.

“Tom B.” followed the herd, teed it forward, and flushed the swing of his life. The ball rocketed toward the flag, kissed the pin, and dropped. Drinks were on him. The prize was already half-spent in his imagination.

Enter the adjuster - clipboard in hand, tape measure in pocket. The official tees, he declared, were fifteen feet back, as spelled out in fine print on a sign partially hidden by bushes. Tom’s ace was real, but from the wrong markers it might as well have landed in the parking lot. No money. No glory. Just a story he still tells - but only when someone else is buying the round.

The Verdict

Three perfect swings. Three dream prizes. Three technicalities. The lesson? In charity golf, don’t just read the greens - read the fine print. Because while the odds of making an ace are roughly 12,500 to 1, the odds of an insurance company finding a loophole are closer to even money.

So Dear Readers, next time you step up to a contest hole, remember these three golfers who learned that sometimes the most dangerous hazard isn’t water or sand - it’s the guy in the polo shirt holding a rulebook.

Poll Question

Vote below and leave a comment in the box for a chance to win a Ryder Cup hat! Tell us your favorite thing about Country Club Confidential - we’ll pick our favorite answer.

Last Week's Poll Result

If you discovered your club’s sommelier was swapping out your prized bottles, what would sting the most?

🟨🟨🟨⬜️⬜️⬜️ Losing the money - $2,000 a bottle isn’t “just wine”

🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩 Losing the trust - I've been hurt before and it never gets easier

⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️ Losing the story - it's all about the journey of acquiring the bottle

🟨⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️ Losing face - telling your guests that “’82 Lafite” was really a Costco Bordeaux

Unsurprisingly, trust issues took the cake on last week’s poll. If you can’t trust your sommelier, who can you trust? (How’s that for a first-world problem?) Here’s too the all the honest ones out there! Hopefully the drink we’re holding up is the same as what it says on the label!

Lastly, if you are a newer subscriber don’t forget to catch up on past stories at ccconfidential.vip - and while you’re at it, tell a friend!