It started like most late-summer rounds in Sweden – cool air, light clouds, and a bit of a gamble with the forecast. August can be unpredictable. But this year, we got lucky.
The day began inside the clubhouse at Bro Hof Slott Golf Club, where all twelve of us gathered in a private dining room before the round. The pace was relaxed. The conversations easy. There was talk of expectations, some quiet confidence, and more than a few laughs over plates that disappeared quicker than expected.
Time got away from us. When the group is good and the mood is better, it always does. By the time we stepped onto the first tee, warm-up swings were replaced with quick glances at the leaderboard and a few rushed putts. No one seemed to mind. The sun had started to break through as the first group teed off. The day had officially begun.
Twelve golfers. Six teams. 2v2 scramble format. Each player brought their own tempo, their own rhythm, their own idea of what a good shot should look like. And somehow, it worked. The front nine moved fast with more birdie looks than not. There were fist bumps, near misses, and the kind of mid-round banter that makes you forget the score – until someone reminds you what’s at stake.
The 17th hole changed things. A long par three with wind in the face and nerves in the swing. It took a few of us down. Even though it wasn’t more club than a pitching wedge, the green stayed mostly untouched. Shots came up short. Mulligans were taken, even if unofficially. But no one walked off the green upset. That wasn’t the point.
Still, everyone quietly wanted the win.
William’s dogs spent the day roaming the course like it was theirs. For a few hours, it kind of was. They added to the looseness of the round, running alongside carts and occasionally chasing tee markers that looked a little too chewable.
After 18 holes of pure variety – low draws, high fades, fairway missiles and bunker regrets – the Nylander brothers came out on top at 11-under. The leaderboard said one thing, but the vibe said something else entirely.
As the sun tucked in behind the trees, gear got packed and the clubhouse got quiet again. One last look at the course, and the day was done.