Sometimes, the greatest golf memories are cemented at the most surprising moments. When I went out very early one morning about six years ago to play what on paper was a quick nine holes at Uriksdal Golfklubb before settling down for a drive down the coast to Öland for our annual family holiday, I knew the day would be a little bit special. My son had started to hit a ball around a few years before, and after some lessons with a local pro, and a few rounds on what I would generously call a fairly local pitch and putt, it was time for his first time on a ‘bigger course’; a ‘real course’. In reality, Uriksdal is a short course, with mainly par threes and three short par fours, so not much more distance wise than he was used to, but it felt like a big step up for him, and he was both excited and nervous. What would the round bring, for me as a proud father and for him on his first ‘proper’ round of golf.

From memory, the morning was glorious. The weather was crisp, the sky was blue, and it was certainly short sleeve weather. We were one of the first on the course so there was a thin layer of dew on the grass, the kind that really gets your feet wet. I can’t really remember much about the golf itself, apart from the fact that he had fun despite the extra length. Three hundred metres is a long way when you have been used to holes of sixty to seventy metres, but he got round, and that was enough. However, when we arrived at the seventh hole, the day was about to take an interesting turn.

The seventh hole played short, around eighty eight metres. It used to be an easy hole, but in the previous season the tee location had been changed to make it more challenging, and it did. The tee shot, while still short, was now largely over a water hazard with out of bounds all the way down the right side and long of the two tiered green. For me, it should be a straightforward shot, a half hit wedge to the middle of the green, but for him it was a very intimidating shot. He was using a long iron for that distance and really had to take the option to bail out left. In fairness to him, he didn't hit it well, but he had aimed safely and was above ground for his second shot. I was, like I was throughout the round, proud and loving having a new little golfing buddy, and he was very happy with himself.

Normally for me this would be an easy wedge, almost a slightly aggressive flick. However, for some reason I tried something different. I have no idea why, but I decided to take out my sixty degree lob wedge and really hit it hard. I suppose my thinking was to try to stop it quickly, as I knew that around eighty five metres was a good distance for that club if I absolutely nailed it. It had the potential to go really pear shaped, and if I bladed it through the back, the horses in the field behind would have been in danger, but for some reason it seemed like a good idea at the time. After a couple of aggressive practice swings where I totally got everything wrong, I stepped behind the ball and, despite lacking confidence, just swung and hit it.

As soon as I hit it, it felt good. It was a sweet connection and the ball flight was high and hard. The pin was in a ridiculous position, probably illegal, perched on the slope between the two tiers. It was pretty central and my immediate memory is the ball landing about a couple of metres past the hole, nice, but that wasn’t it. The ball bit hard and because of the flag location we both had a clear view of it start to spin back, and spin back it did. It hit the flag and dropped. A hole in one. My first ever. Instinctively, I started dancing around and probably saying things I shouldn’t have said in front of him, and he just looked at me, bemused and confused.

I think it was then that the realisation kicked in. I had hit a hole in one; my first. For pretty much most golfers, this is one of the most special moments you can have. I was fortunate, because I also got to experience it at the same time as one of the other most special moments that a golfer can have; their first real round of golf with their child. I have had some amazing moments on a golf course, but I don't think that I have had a high like that since. I have had two more hole in ones since, but neither was as emotional as this. For my son, it must have been odd. I imagine that every round after for a while must have seemed like an anticlimax; just an odd collection of pars, bogeys and doubles mixed in with the occasional birdie for his old man.

In reality, it's something we talk about occasionally. He is now nearly eighteen, has had his own birdies, and his own near misses with hole in one chances. But he won’t forget that day for many reasons. It was his first day playing real golf on a real golf course, it was our first proper round together and, for me, that's what makes it special. It's a huge privilege to be able to play golf with him so often. Whether it's nine holes, or a full eighteen, the time spent together is precious and ours. You don’t really think about it at the time, you just go out and play, but those rounds add up. Looking back now, that morning wasn’t really about the shot at all. It was just one of those days that you don’t forget, for reasons that have nothing to do with the scorecard.

This was just one of those days that you don’t forget, for reasons that have very little to do with the golf itself. It reminds me, in a very different way, of Final Rounds by James Dodson, which is about something much deeper, but carries that same sense of time and connection.