A return to my nightmares...

I have many memories of Rancho Park, most of which don't give me the warm fuzzies (to be fair, the golf course itself is decent, if one can ignore the distractions). In addition to being the site of my first 6 hour round well over a decade ago, it is also the golf course I used to drive by daily on the worst stretch of my professional career, wishing that I could play golf, even there, in place of doing what I was doing.  But, worse of all is the all-consuming fear of having to play the dreaded 18th hole. 

The closing par five is the most terrifying hole in the world, not for any golf shot value, but from the absolute fear that is generated by being on the fairway sitting next to of one of the most busy driving ranges in the world, where the nets are just not high enough.  There are dozens of balls lining the fairway, and some "Johnny-can't-swing" is two beers deep and ready to pop one over the fence and brain the unsuspecting golfer, all for a laugh or for a cry (depending on the intention of the driving range resident).  Although not an official local rule, if the player can get the ball in play on their second shot, I call for the player to take  automatic par and walk up the hole away from the fairway, far to the left, leave your ball as a donation to the range demons, and live to play another day.