If good things come in threes, what could be next for this Wichita golfer?

If it’s true that good things come in threes, people should be clamoring to hit the golf course with Mike McMillin.

To say the retired Wichitan and enthusiastic linksman has had some amazing days on the greens lately doesn’t begin to tell the story, which involves him saving a life one month and then hitting a 1-in-17-million shot a few months later.

The first unusual incident came Oct. 23 as McMillin played with his regular Thursday group at the MacDonald Golf Course near College Hill.

He and three friends were on the path between the 12th hole and the 13th tee box — the steepest climb on the course.

“It really tests your rigor going up the hill to that tee box,” said Van Downing, who’s been golfing with McMillin for three decades.

Downing and the others teed off at the top of the hill and each headed in the direction of where they shot, which requires going down the hill and back up the fairway.

Two players went right, and McMillin headed straight. As usual, he looked over to Downing, whose long-distance eyesight isn’t great, to see if he needed help finding his ball.

“I always try to keep an eye on him,” McMillin said.

Except Downing didn’t seem to be there — until, that is, McMillin looked to the ground and saw his friend there gasping for air.

By the time McMillin ran and reached him less than a minute later, Downing wasn’t moving, although he seemed to still be struggling for air.

“I got on 9-11 right away,” McMillin said.

Not only has he never learned CPR, McMillin said he’s never heard that compressions are supposed to be done to the beat of the Bee Gee’s “Stayin’ Alive.”

The 9-11 operator — whom McMillin called the hero of the day — “walked me step by step through it.”

“She counted with me so I had the right rhythm.”

McMillin kept it up for 10 minutes until an ambulance could arrive and a machine took over.

“They tell me, though, that he saved my life,” Downing said. “That I would not have made it had he not administered CPR.”

Downing was told he’d had a heart attack. He said he’s doing well now and is back to playing golf.

These days, fellow golfers like to tease McMillin about his life-saving prowess.

“OK, we’re covered,” they say. “He’s in our group.”

McMillin said while he does think about what happened every time he’s near that hole, he said he doesn’t “want to be in that situation again.”

“I’m not out looking to save people’s lives. I’m not a first responder.”

For Downing, though, McMillin always will be just that.

“There’s no way to say how much I appreciate what Mike did. He saved my life. What can you say to that?”

Four!

Less than a year ago, McMillin hit his first hole-in-one, at the west side’s Auburn Hills Golf Course, a great achievement but still nothing compared to the bragging rights a couple of his buddies have.

Dale Goter, a former city lobbyist, has had seven, including four in one year and three in the space of a couple of weeks.

Leroy Leep, perhaps best known in the Wichita area as a one-time basketball star for North High and Newman, has had four.

On Sunday, which was cold and windy, Leep and McMillin were at Auburn Hills with 10 friends who divided into two groups to play.

Their group included Paul Oropesa, City Council member J.V. Johnston and his son, Jake.

They were playing hole No. 4, which actually was their 13th hole of the day because they reversed the course’s order of play to avoid the early frost on the front nine.

At each hole, the guys divided into to two teams — it changed for each hole — to play against each other.

Oropesa got to choose first at hole No. 4. He also hit first but came up short.

Then Leep teed off.

“It took two hops, and it went in,” Leep said. “I got the right spin on the ball.”

He said his hole-in-one was simple luck.

“It’s all luck,” Leep said. “Hole-in-ones are just luck.”

It seems his modesty may be misplaced because Leep was at hole No. 4 last year when he got another hole-in-one.

“He’s an old hat at it,” McMillin said. “We’re whooping it up.”

Oropesa couldn’t choose Leep for his team because, since he’d gotten a hole-in-one, Leep had the right to dump Oropesa as a partner.

Jake Johnston then hit long over the green. Then the elder Johnston hit right, though McMillin said it was a good shot. Since Oropesa didn’t select either of them for his team, those two automatically were on a team with Leep.

“I thought, OK, we’re going to lose the hole,” McMillin said.

Still, he wanted to give it his best shot.

He swung, and there wasn’t even the drama of Leep’s two hops first.

“Mine went in the hole really quick.”

The group roared at the second hole-in-one.

“You’d have thought you had five little kids out there,” McMillin said. “We were all yelling.”

Leep yelled a little something special of his own given that his own hole-in-one didn’t even mean he won that round. It was a wash with McMillin’s.

“I yelled something that . . . can’t be printed,” Leep said.

Playing one hole up, Goter had to backtrack to see what the commotion was about.

“You don’t expect another one,” McMillin said.

It was so unexpected, the National Hole-In-One Registry said there’s only a 1-in-17-million chance of two golfers each getting a shot straight in the same hole while playing together.

McMillin allows himself a bit more credit than Leep gave himself.

“It’s pretty much 95% luck.”

The rule of three

Operating on the rule of three, McMillin’s wife, former Eagle aviation writer Molly McMillin, and their son, Andy, encouraged him to buy a lottery ticket Sunday evening while his luck seemingly was running high. So, at 10:30 p.m., McMillin left the house in pursuit of millions.

Leep had the same thought but didn’t win.

McMillin not only didn’t win, he said of the $30 in tickets he bought with 90 numbers total, he hit only three of them.

“They were terrible numbers.”

McMillin said he’s not sure about the rule of three, especially if it means three bad things go together, as people often say.

He’s not opposed, however, to another nice thing happening on the golf course or elsewhere.

“We’ll look for that third one some other way.”

Perhaps there’s no need.

As Goter pointed out, there are a lot of variables that go into golf stats — or stories, as the case sometimes may be.

He said he’s thrilled for his friends and said they should be celebrating, but that “when you save somebody’s life? Geez.”

“That’s much bigger than a hole-in-one.”

This story was originally published January 21, 2026 at 4:04 AM.