THE RETURN...                                                                            It's 2023. Post college, post pandemic, in the midst of early business career success. And it's the return to competitive golf. With reinstatement as an amateur, Luke is headed back to competition, and with anything he has ever done, it's all or nothing. It's not nothing. He's entered not less than 8 tournaments from now til the end of the summer. First stop is Florida State Public Links Championship, three rounds of stroke play, no cut. It's played at Dubsdread in Orlando, a short peculiar track where you barely need a driver. But it's a good place to start. You get to play three rounds no matter what, and you can test your short game. Going into the final round, the rust showed, but there's a new attitude. Play conservative, play patient, let the game come to you. The philosophy is working in fits and starts. But I'm long distance. Next week I'm "on the bag" for the first time in a long time (not counting a best ball tournament at The Preserve in Monterey two years ago). Stay tuned...

Inside the Ropes... Almost

I’m not sure if this is about me, as dad; me, as caddie; my son Luke, the object of my caddying; the uniqueness of the Champions Tour, or simply about getting in touch with one’s inner golfer… but here goes:

Following an early round of golf with Luke this past Sunday, we hopped in my car and made our way to The Cricket Club in Philadelphia to see the final round of the Constellation Senior Players Open. Luke, armed with a Media Pass from interning with PGA Magazine this summer, got us as far as the media parking lot, so I still had to pay, which I was glad to do, knowing that although the PGA makes boatloads of money, they do in fact give a lot back to the communities in which the events are held. But I digress.

I had never been to a Champions Tour event before so I’m not positive, but I’m guessing that the turnout I witnessed on the final day was disappointing, for the Tour, the sponsors, the Golf Network, and the players. However, in the end, the sparse turnout had a silver lining. As close as one may get from time to time to the participants in a sporting event, there was nothing quite like what Luke and I and our fellow gallery members experienced that day. On Golf Channel, they’re always talking about the experience of being “inside the ropes,” as in, ”We’re inside the ropes and you’re not.” Well, on this day we came pretty close to crossing that great divide.

At the Constellation Players at the Cricket Club, the ropes barely kept us off the playing surface. On every tee and every green, we were, as the movie title says “Ten Feet from Stardom.” With our toes inches from the putting surface or short tee grass, we were privy to every player quip, every player sigh, every player-caddy conversation. When Joe Don Blake, still in contention, missed the green badly on the windy short par 13^th and groaned as he handed his club to his caddy, he was so close I was almost moved to put my arm around him to console him. On the 16^th, with Langer leading by two and hitting a nice drive down the middle, he was forced to move back and lean on me as his opponent teed off. I felt like whispering in his ear, don’t worry Bernhard, you’ve got this. And so it went, like the spectator turned caddie in Tin Cup or the customer turned caddy in the Mastercard commercial, I, Luke and the rest of us were drawn into the action.

Walking down the right side of the fairway a few minutes later, ruminating on this unique experience, I suggested to Luke that he write an article about this and give it to his boss at PGA Magazine. After he explained that the magazine was for PGA professionals and this subject would not resonate with their readership, I implored further, at which time, the couple walking beside us got into the conversation. About this time, as a die hard millennial, he checked out of the conversation to check his texts. So alas it was left to me to record this day. Conclusion: Golf is a magical game unlike any other to play, watch or experience, where the bonding potential and the bond between players and caddies, players and spectators, and fathers and sons, is unrivaled. Takeaway: The next time you have the chance, get out to a Champions Tour event.  Bernhard may need a read. 

Lessons Taught, Lessons Learned?

So what is the responsibility of a parent to make sure your kid makes the right decisions (after they've come "of age.")? And what is the responsibility of a caddy to make sure his player makes the right decisions? When I’m out on the links with my kid, those two questions merge as one. On the PGA tour some caddies are part of the decision making process and influence their players decision, others are merely pack mules, carrying clubs, and raking bunkers. But even the influential ones (e.g. Bones for Mickelson, Fluff for Jim Furyk) defer to the player in the end with whom the final decision must rest.So there we were, with a ("a" not "the" as there are many) moment of truth decision upon us. There had been a few earlier, but this one was crunch time, two under with 3 holes to go and the cut likely at even par to play in the Met Am at Baltusrol. Bad drive with no clear shot to green. Do we take our medicine and punch out to fairway or try to hit high risk shot to save par. Dad’s Ten Commandments (see earlier blog) explicitly states to take medicine in this situation. Argument: If he punches out to fairway, he can still possibly get up and down for par but will certainly make no more than bogey, thus going into last two holes with one stroke to spare to make cut.And this is a special cut, 150 player field, some of the best in the area and they’re only taking eight. Halfway through the summer season, making this cut will buoy our boy immensely. It’s right there for team Luke. But he balks at my safe play suggestion... and I don’t insist. I get caught up in his delusion of hitting “the shot” and the secondary delusion that making the cut by two strokes rather than on the number, matters. It doesn't... but I'm swept away. Five minutes later, with a triple bogey on the card, we’re in desperation mode on 17 and 18 and it’s not going to work. Bad decision, cut missed. Time to move on. But it will sting for a day or two.
One day before, we were playing at The Ike Championship at Friar’s Head Country Club, which may be the most visually stunning and beautiful course I’ve ever seen… and that includes Pebble Beach and Kiawah Island (though I know there are others). We went out on day one to make the cut by playing conservative and methodical. Before the round, his competitor friends were amazed that we hadn’t come out for a practice round for such a unique golf course. A combination of logistics (course was far away and only accessible weekdays before) and the experience that practice rounds have never provided us better results, in fact to the contrary, made our first round the first time we’d seen the course. So conservative play made sense no matter what. Result: we make the cut… top 40 and ties from a field of well over a hundred competitors.
Day 2 of Ike (the afore mentioned "one day before": Now we know the course and the same plan is in play, well at least I think so, but as the day goes on, low scores by the leader start infecting our strategy. Pretty soon, we’re going for par 5’s and drivable par 4’s, attacking pins, and before long we’re picking up the inevitable bogey’s. We wind up T-29 where a top twenty was easily within reach. In golf, in order for the player to get back out there the next day, it's typical to blame something other than ones self and the likely target is the caddie... and in this case, it's a twofer... blame your caddie and your dad for the same money. Luke does not blame me, but I'm complicit. There will be another day. And more lessons to come.

After the Cut

So Pat Wilson didn’t make the cut at the US Open, but took away a world of experience, both for competitive golf and life in general. That’s what golf gives you. Every experience in life has a lesson of course (if one chooses to pay attention), but competitive golf does test strength of character in a unique way. What’s the meaning of life? What rules do we need to live by or be judged by? USGA? State or Federal Laws? God? Personal Moral Compass? Whichever you choose, moments that count to you, provide the relevant test.

Okay, I may be getting carried away here, but Tuesday the summer of local competition continues with the New Jersey State Open Qualifier. So what matters? As we hear from all the golf pundits (the Golf Channel provides background noise at the moment), Chambers Bay may be “unfair” by some standards for the US Open Championship, but in the end, no one cares. This is the venue, this is the situation, play the course! 

Over the years, we (my player and I) have had our share of bad breaks, distractions, injustice, whatever… but no one cares! Play the course, stay patient, comport yourself with dignity (or whatever version of it works for you), and post the best score you can. As you do it on the golf course, you’ll do it in life, and you’ll do it on the golf course, and you’ll do it in life…

Play the course. I mean "Play the Course." #chambersbay

It's the US Open Man!

So here's a touch of reality connecting the dreams of junior golfers, the struggles, and what can happen...

And if you're getting into the US Open this week, this might enhance the experience. Below is a link to a blog being posted to MGAGolf.org, the golf association in the NY metropolitan area. It's written by Pat Wilson, who is playing in his first US Open. Luke has played with Pat, and his younger brother Corey, a number of times in local events (yes I was on the bag). 

Last time we saw Pat was about a year ago when Luke was playing with Corey in a qualifier and Pat was caddying for his younger brother. If I've got my timeline right, Pat had turned pro recently and was playing on the Canadian and Puerto Rican tours, and wasn't having much success. He shared that the reason he was back in New Jersey was because he was a little low on money and had to come back to make some money and regroup. After that, we heard or saw that he was still struggling trying to find a game that could compete on those tours. 

And that's pretty much how it was from our perspective until he recently found his game, just in time to get through local qualifying. Last week, in New Jersey, he was one of four guys to get through Sectional Qualifying. One of those four was Lee Janzen, two time US Open champ. Now he's at Chambers Bay. The two coaches he's working with now, have also been Luke's coaches. Luke spent about 3 years with Jason Birnbaum, and a season of mental coaching with Mike Diffley, so it's easier to imagine how surreal this must be for Pat now at Chambers Bay on the eve of teeing it up for the US Open. Very cool to see it unfold... and hope for good things. Pat's a great kid. Most of them are. Check out his blog... http://www.mgagolf.org/news/2015/june/patwilson_1 (start from the bottom... the oldest posts)

A New Outlook on (Golf) Life

A year has passed… and a new outlook has emerged. The junior golfer is now 21. He's experienced more of life. He's worked. He's bought a car with his own money. He’s felt the sweet sting of romantic attachment. And he’s accepted his frailties on the golf course. And needing to maintain the satisfaction that comes with besting the field, has pointed his energies toward other pursuits: entrepreneurship, money, business prestige. 

The dream hasn’t been buried, but it has been modified. With maturity has come a new understanding of the world around him and a better understanding of his own limitations. All things may be possible, but they’re not necessarily probable. And that’s where we pick up this story. 

His golf career will no longer arc towards the PGA tour. He knows he may never have the game for that level, and more importantly never have the head. But there are still battles to wage, and victories to be had, and coupled with success and satisfaction off the golf course, he seems okay with the trade off. So the outlook is revised, the schedule will be trimmed, but the accidental caddie is not done yet.

Our story resumed last month at the same Terra Cotta Invitational. With a field that included 20 of the top 50 amateurs in the world and about 50 of the top 500, everyone had game. You could have your best game and compete but you were never going to pass the players in this field. This may have been where “we" finally decided to revise “our" goals. And it’s okay.

Now the summer season begins in the Tri-state area (NY, NJ, and CT). First up was the NJ Am Qualifier this past week. How is it that we’re not exempt in these championships? He holds the record for the lowest round in NJ Am history. Never mind, play the qualifier. Going in, we’re just looking to qualify. No point in wasting a 66 that gets reset on the first hole of the championship. Make pars. The number will be plus 4 or 5. Through 15 holes, we’re even. Can’t buy a putt as usual, but we’re cruising. It feels too comfortable. No matter, Luke will hit an approach from 80 years to an impossible lie and we’ll make bogey to shatter our complacency and derail his fluid tee shots. Going into the last hole we’re 3 over.

“What do I need on this hole dad?” Well a par would be nice, but I think even a bogey assures qualification. OK. He tees it up and drives it 280 yards out and about 120 yards left, almost missing the adjacent fairway. We arrive at our ball 200 yards from the green with trees blocking every realistic approach. I suggest putting it back in fairway and making par or bogey from there. But we’re not in “realistic” mode. “I’ll cut a hybrid around those trees.” Really? Good contact but no cut. We’re dead behind the green, behind a mound to a pin two paces on, severely downhill. OK, let’s make bogey and we should be okay.

He pulls out lob wedge, opens it wide, swings it hard, and throws it far in the air. It lands on the fringe and trickles down near the hole. Par. Plus 3. Good, figuring the cut is plus 5. Nope. The cut is plus 3. We’re on the number (again), but we’re in, "just like we planned.” 

And so begins another "stress free" summer of competition with a new perspective on golf success and failure. Wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Just When I Thought I Was Out...

The hiatus is over. Called back into action for a one-off-on-the-bag experience at the prestigious Terra Cotta Invitational, my caddie career seems resurrected, now that Luke has again got the competition bug. Come this summer, he will be teeing it up in every New York area amateur tournament he can fit into his schedule. And I will be on the bag for all those tournaments, whether they fit into my schedule or not. What do they say about caddies: Show up, keep up, and shut up.? And for dads too I guess... throw in, can I have a few bucks?

What can I do? Win or lose, stress or smile, there is no bigger kick in life that I've known than to caddie for my kid in competition. How many dads even get their kids attention for that much time? On a golf course, hopefully in sunshine, with your kid, surrounded by sportsman in an air of almost Utopian camaraderie (for the most part), it's an atmosphere that can barely be matched.

The Terra Cotta was his first big competition in a long time (save for the mini-tour warm-up the week before that was a nothing to lose affair), and probably the biggest of his career. Playing against the highest ranked field, on one of the most beautiful and toughest courses around, Luke was the local hero, a menial worker at the tournament venue. Featured in the local paper the night before the tournament started as the working kid that played his way into the prestigious tournament, people actually showed up just to see him, the underdog, compete. A touch of Francis Ouimet saga maybe? Snowbirds from New Jersey came out to see the kid from their home state. And then there were the members and his co-workers. The members wanted to see what this hyped kid could do in competition on their course. His co-workers were either proud or envious of his opportunity and a betting pool popped up involving how Luke would fare in the heat of battle.

Well, over three days and fifty four holes, we didn't get the Hollywood ending we were hoping for, but realistically, he acquitted himself well, at times bending, not breaking. Clearly there was a little rust in the swing and a little rust in the head for the focus and patience required. And I, as dad, caddie, and on course therapist, worked hard peppering him with positive golf cliche's to keep the doubts and demons at bay. He finished T-41 in a field of 80 against some of the best amateurs in the world. He didn't light it up, but all in all, he was satisfied. How satisfied? Three days later he texted me to sign him up for every significant tournament this summer. And I'll be on the bag, stressing for my kid, and loving it. The accidental caddie walks again!