As a club professional at one of the busiest resorts in the world, playing golf happened infrequently. I had tons of excuses, my most important being my two young sons. They were playing different youth sports and I wasn’t going to miss anything. But we were also cranking out 50,000 rounds per year and after a long shift focusing on guests, actually thinking about your own game wasn’t even in your top 5. One way to massage this issue was to play what we called The Sunset Six. Holes 1-6 at Spyglass Hill meandered through the seaside dunes with expansive views of the Pacific. The 6th green was located about 300 yards from the Pro Shop and a natural finishing spot. This was our very spoiled version of the common club term known as the “Whiskey Run.”

The Sunset Six was the perfect peaceful walk after a demanding day. It was a way to reconnect with the game you loved in under an hour. It was also a great grounding mechanism. Often times, staff would do it alone just to be reminded what a privilege it was to work in the Del Monte Forest at one of the finest courses in the world. After servicing over 200 people on a busy day, it can be easy to forget. But once you turned the corner on #1–no matter how many reps you’d done in the past– it was special.

I was on a late evening solo-mission and on hole #4 of the Sunset Six, which is a short demanding par 4. The tee shot didn’t require driver, but dangerous dunes protected the left side. You couldn’t necessarily hit an iron off the tee because it would leave a longish 2nd shot into perhaps the narrowest green in the world. It was two-tiered and tucked between succulents and sand. Wind made the algorithm more complicated. Even though I’d made a 10 here in a tournament after a one- sided battle with ice plant, it was still my favorite hole in golf. And on this day, I had managed the challenges cleanly and was lining up a 12 footer for birdie. Then I heard the roar.

Swinging in at an 30 degree angle, I immediately identified the source as one of the Blue Angels. It was at high speed and perhaps 200 yards off the deck as it roared over the first green and out over the ocean. At this point, it made a hard left turn and continued around the corner at Cypress Point, which was probably half a mile away from where I was crouched in my green reading stance. When you see something this fast and this loud, there is a visceral, adrenaline pumping reaction. My body was literally shaking. And at that moment, I thought it was the coolest thing I’d ever witnessed. I was pretty sure I was the only one to see it because the sun was setting. I tried to settle myself down for a moment as I took another look at my birdie putt. And then it came around for another lap.

The jet came back over the trees at Cypress Point inverted, which means upside down. It was very low as I watched it speed across the horizon line. Once it got back over the ocean, the pilot flipped it right side up and hit the after burners. It was maybe 100 yards above the water as it accelerated north up the coastline. I could see the engines turn deep orange and the sound was indescribable. I felt like the only person in the entire world.

One of my strengths is I am an active networker. So, I was going to get to the bottom of this mystery. After a few calls, I discovered that this was a special “fly by” for an Admiral that was a member at Cypress Point. He had arranged for the Blue Angels to play the course a few days earlier. Rumor has it that when the jet came over the trees inverted, the Admiral and his friends dove onto the ground because it came in so low. I also found out this lone Blue Angel covered the distance from Pebble Beach to San Francisco in a little over 8 minutes, which is an average of 500-600 miles per hour.

I never talked to the Admiral, and I never met another person that witnessed this private TOP GUN show. I also blew my birdie putt 6 feet past and made bogey. I can personally confirm that adrenaline takes a while to leave the body.