It’s all down to this putt. If I sink it, I claim victory over my opponent and can move on to the next set of challenges. But if I miss, all my efforts are for naught and I’ll have to start over from square one. I’m kicking myself because I blew it: I botched a few easy shots and misjudged a couple simple putts, basically giving the competition a free pass on almost half of the holes. As I’m gauging the putt distance, a family of ducks float nearby in a small pond and a chorus of insects and birds chirp their symphony. I finally make my move and the ball inches toward the hole, as if in slow motion. After what seems like an eternity, it finally drops into the cup. My muscles ease up and the elation that comes with a close victory courses through my veins!