This article originally appeared in the October issue of NCGA Golf Magazine
By Erin Blaettler
According to the National Hole-in-One Registry, a hole-in-one is recorded about once every 3,500 rounds of golf.
Apparently, nobody told the Hansens.
On Sept. 12, Ryan Hansen made a hole-in-one on the eighth hole at Diablo Country Club. Five holes later, his 14-year-old son, Jack, made another.
What are the odds of that? Well, suffice to say the Hansens took it a bit further--the odds of two different players in the same group making a hole-in-one on the same day are approximately 17 million to 1.
Ryan has played golf since he was 13. Jack, a baseball player, has spent most of his athletic life on a diamond rather than a golf course.
That began to change about nine months ago. Jack started playing more golf with his dad, and with more time on the course came greater appreciation for just how difficult the game can be.
“I’ve learned it’s really hard to play golf,” Jack said. “It’s not as easy as people probably think it is.”
No argument there. But on this particular afternoon, golf was about to give the Hansens something neither could have reasonably expected.
Ryan stepped onto the elevated eighth tee, 136 yards from the hole, with a pitching wedge in his hands. He struck the shot, but because of the elevation, father and son couldn’t see the ball finish. There was no dramatic view of it tracking toward the flag, no chance to watch it catch the slope and disappear, no immediate celebration. Just a golf ball that seemed to have vanished.
Then they found it at the bottom of the cup.
Ryan had made the second hole-in-one of his life.
As they moved to the ninth hole, the excitement was still fresh when Jack made a comment that, in retrospect, feels almost scripted.
“I’ll probably never make a hole-in-one ever in my life.”
He had no idea what was coming four holes later.
Nearly two years earlier, on Sept. 20, 2024, Ryan had made the first ace of his life at Diablo Country Club on No. 13. Now his son stood on the same hole with a 7-iron, staring down 153 yards to the flag.
Jack swung.
This time, there was no mystery. Ryan and Brian Carlson watched the ball land on the front of the green and begin moving left, rolling toward the hole.
And then it disappeared.
Jack had his first career hole-in-one—five holes after his dad, on the same hole where Ryan had made his first.
“It’s still unbelievable,” Ryan said. “It’s the fastest I’ve ever seen him run, that’s for sure.”
For Ryan, who had spent decades with the game before Jack began taking a greater interest in it, the significance went beyond two numbers on a scorecard. Golf had become another place for a father and son to spend time together, and in less than a year of sharing the game more seriously, it had already given them a story that would be difficult to top.
“It was unexpected, as most hole-in-ones are,” Ryan said. “Even when you get one, there’s excitement, but to have another one happen five holes later—it’s still pretty surreal.”
The rarity began sinking in afterward. Friends called. Messages came in. The story traveled. What had happened during a round between father and son started to feel larger once they heard other golfers react to it.
“Unique and unbelievable, that’s for sure,” Ryan said. “Then, talking to friends and having people reach out, it’s starting to set in how rare this moment is, which is pretty cool. It’s just really hard to believe.”
Maybe that is part of golf’s enduring appeal between generations. A parent can introduce a child to the game, but there is no telling what happens from there. Golf can be passed down, but the experiences it produces belong to the people sharing them. A round can become a ritual, a course can become part of a family’s history and, occasionally, one swing can become a story told long after anyone remembers the score.
“It’s a moment of history for us that really can’t be replicated,” Ryan said.
Then he reconsidered.
“Unless we did it again.”