Dance Floor.

Golfers call the green the dance floor. It's where the round stops being work and starts being a party.

This ball never sees a tee. Electroplated gold, made for the short game — could you hit it hard? Sure. Would you? Never. Nobody sends the good china over water.

So it stays in the pocket until the moment arrives: you're on the dance floor, a makeable putt waiting, everyone watching. That's when the gold one comes out. Not because it rolls any better. Because it turns the putt into an occasion — and if it drops, the celebration is already dressed for it.

And if it doesn't drop? New ball, new story. House rules.