Entry 25.20

A lot has happened in my world since I last wrote one of these. I’ll be honest, I wrote last week’s entry a couple weeks ago knowing my schedule probably wouldn’t permit me time to write. Time management is one of my strengths. I’m always looking forward as far as I can and seeing what I can do now to get ahead and make my life easier later on down the road. But I can procrastinate with the best of them, especially if the option is practicing or playing. It’s the reason I work ahead. It gives me more time for golf. The last two weeks have been all about golf for me. The first full week of May, I spent on the study abroad trip with forty PGM students (yes, you read that correctly. Forty) and three of my coworkers. It was my second trip to Scotland and this trip was even more special than the last. Last time I was there, I met Barry and Alan, two brilliant Scottish gentlemen who I believe deserve honorary degrees from Methodist after all the work that they have done over the three trips the program has made to Scotland. They have been vital to the success of these trips and behind Brock, have put a ton of time and effort into them. I chat with the two of them often. Barry was unable to play golf on my first trip to Scotland as he had just had his first hip replacement (he has since had the second one done). But he was back in action this trip and I had the opportunity to play golf with both him and Alan. The original plan was for Shelby to come out at the end of our trip and when the students left, she and I would tour and explore the country. But life had other things in store for us, and she ended up having shoulder surgery two days before I left, making our plans come to a screeching halt (Don’t worry. I didn’t just leave my wife all alone two days after shoulder surgery. Her mom came out and spent a couple of weeks with her.). Barry was a huge help in providing ideas so when we do make it over, planning will basically be done. But life didn’t just hand out lemons; water, sugar, ice, a pitcher, and a couple cups were also provided. So making lemonade was really easy.

Because of the change in plans, I was able to make it down to Charlotte for one of the best, if not the best, golf competition of the year. Ok, yeah. It’s definitely the best golf competition of the year. No, I’m not talking about the PGA Championship. I spent some time at Quail Hollow, and I’ll talk about that in a bit in detail, don’t worry. The best golf competition that I’m referring to is the Secretary’s Cup. The Secretary’s Cup is golf’s major for Veterans, specifically PGA HOPE graduates and the PGA Professional’s who lead HOPE chapters. Twelve teams from across the country came to battle for the trophy and the pride and honor that comes along with winning. But they also came together to grow the HOPE community and celebrate their accomplishments. Each team is comprised of four veterans and one PGA Professional. The competition was held at Carmel Country Club but the night before, the Welcome Dinner took place at the NASCAR Hall of Fame. I had very little to do with either event. The energy at the Welcome Dinner was electric. Seeing the smiles on the faces of the veterans as they explored the venue lit up my world. I was tired. Very tired. I’m a light sleeper and my roommate in Scotland snores so loud it sounds like a freight train is in the room. When I don’t sleep well, I suffer from migraines, which messes with my sleep. A vicious cycle that becomes hard to break. Just one of the fun goodies in the bag the Army handed me as I left the party (and I wouldn’t have it any other way. You were worth it). Add in the five-hour time difference and you have one very tired person. But when the doors opened the flood of PGA HOPE graduates, their families, and their lead Professionals instantly gave me energy. Like in The Avengers when Thor hits Iron Man with a bolt of lightning and Jarvis gives him the good news “Power at 400% capacity”. I was supercharged. I spent the evening meeting new people, connecting with old friends and just enjoying the atmosphere.

The next day I woke up ready to tackle the day. I got to Carmel Country Club early in a light drizzle. I mingled with the Section and National staff who were already on site, amazed at the reception our host had prepared. They really rolled out the red carpet and I can’t say enough good things about it. We even had presidents and past presidents of the club there to support our graduates. I snagged some breakfast and then greeted the crowd as the buses pulled up to the venue. Then, my previous career came in handy. No, not my Army career, the one before that. Two police officers had been assigned to provide an escort to the two buses and they had been invited to get some breakfast. While the participants funneled through the buffet line, I spent 20 or so minutes chatting with the two officers. I know sometimes these little assignments can really be no fun, so I wanted to make sure they understood how impactful their little part was to the competitors. I ended up seeing both at Quail Hollow over the next two days and had another opportunity to thank them. Team Carolinas was the first to tee off and since I was an alternate scorer and not needed, I walked the course with them. All was going smoothly until our second hole, when the heavens decided to open up and really pour. Relief for temporary water? No possible. The ground was so saturated it didn’t matter when you placed the ball, you were in water. Thankfully, I had my Sunderland of Scotland rain gear and paired with my umbrella, stayed dry. I spent my time on the course holding my umbrella over the players as they waited their turn. It was the most impactful thing I could find to do. The team played well and towards the end of their round, the rain stopped, and the sun came out. Other teams overtook Team Carolinas as the weather cleared. Or so we thought. About an hour after they finished, the sky decided the first dousing wasn’t enough. The sub-air on the eighteenth green was working overtime trying to keep the green dry. The rain was coming down so hard, it couldn’t keep up. So, when Team North Florida holed a birdie putt on the final hole to secure the Cup, the crowd went wild. It was electric! A day that I didn’t want to end. Despite being an extra body and basically just a spectator, I was having too much fun. But unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. But the memories and joy will live on in each and every one of us. On my way back to my hotel I stopped at Subway and picked up my favorite sub (Italian BMT with provolone, lettuce, tomato, pickles, banana peppers and mayo. Doesn’t matter what sub shop it comes from. That’s my order) and a Coke Zero for dinner. Dinner happened early and I was in bed by 2000 because 0415 comes early.

Alarm off, dressed, teeth brushed and out the door by 0430. Army skills coming in handy. I made my way to the Volunteer lot and caught the bus to Quail Hollow. After some hiccups getting my credentials, I arrived at my place of duty for the next two mornings: the practice facilities for a Major Championship. My job was fairly easy. Identify the player, find his name plate, build out the sign and place it behind the player on the range. When he left, I picked up any leftover balls and baskets and retrieved the sign. I also was in charge of the player tracking system. So I also had to add players to the iPad list which showed up on all the signs around the course letting people know where each player was located. Things started out quiet and then picked up a bit and before long became controlled chaos. My fellow PGA Professional volunteers and I did the best we could to keep up with the coming and goings of the players. Eventually, we found a system that worked. Which made my job way easier. They did all the name tents and cleaning up and reported players to me to track. Which provided me an opportunity to walk up and down the range and just watch, listen and capture a few videos (I think I ended up with right around 100. Most of them from down the line or unconventional angles. It was really hard to get a perfect face on without getting in the way). This was my first time on a range with professional players and to be honest, I was surprised at what I learned.

Imagine the range Downback without range dividers and players as close to each other as possible without putting one another in jeopardy of getting hit by a club. Add a caddie to each player. Then add another person to each one. Then every other group add another person. Then for half of those add another person. Now you can imagine the range is starting to get crowded. Then for each of those people add another person, but instead of them standing with the player, put them along a fence approximately twenty feet behind the line. That is the chaos of the range during practice rounds of a major championship. It’s a perfect environment. That might sound a little crazy, but it is if you are me. I’m not a big fan of crowds so I like to get lost in them, alone in my own little bubble. I moved from group to group, standing in one spot just long enough to determine if it was educational to stay there, or if I needed to move on. What did I learned? Even though this was a range at a major championship, it was like every other range I have ever been on. For some players this was social hour. They were joking around and cutting up with their caddies and coaches. Some were locked in so much I doubt they realized anyone else was on the range. Some players were firing on all cylinders and others not so much. A couple of players missed the range more often than they hit it while I was watching. Like ball flying over the fence that surrounded the range missed the range. One of them was on the range for five hours on Tuesday and even after working with Mark Blackburn (considered the number one coach in the world by some), was still so confused and spraying the ball everywhere I was convinced, there was no way he was making the cut (he made the cut and as I write this is T-21). I have an advantage that many people don’t have. I can hear things without standing anywhere close to the conversation. No, I’m not Superman. I can leave my phone in one place and set my hearing aids to speaker mode. Instead of the tiny microphones in the hearing aids listening, my phone is doing the listening. So “inadvertently” leaving my phone on a cooler nearby then standing twenty feet away, I was still able to listen to their conversation. I was expecting something special to come from the number one coach in the world and it never came. What I would have told the player is exactly what Mark told him. These guys are regular joes, just like you and me. There is no secret sauce. No magic dust. No abracadabra.

What does make them different? It is their obsession with the little things. Alignment sticks everywhere. String splayed out in different patterns. Tees in their station like they were playing that peg game at Cracker Barrel. Exactly like when I was a sniper. I wasn’t able to go 6 for 10 at 2500 meters because I was sloppy. We did the tiny things over and over. Place a dime on the end of the barrel and pull the trigger, slide the bolt, and repeat without the dime falling off. My record was 8 hours. That’s the attention to detail that these guys have. And every single one of them has a unique way of doing it. But they all have the same goal. To win. Whether they were social butterflies or in a world of their own, when they decided to hit a shot, they went through their mental checklist to ensure they were prepared the best they could be to hit the intended shot. Then they executed. Unlike the range Downback, they didn’t rake over their next ball. They stopped and evaluated both the process and the result. Then they started all over again. Seemingly random tugs on a glove are actually calculated moves. Tee height is checked, then rechecked. The ball is aligned on the tee the same way every single time. The number of waggles is identical. I haven’t even begun to look at the swings I captured but I am sure I am missing a hundred other details.

In the last two weeks golf has giving me so much. I enjoyed time with friends I get to see every two years. I saw students enjoying new experiences abroad. I felt a sense of community and pride as we celebrated PGA HOPE graduates everywhere. I had the opportunity to spend time around the best players, coaches, caddies and player support personnel in the game. I tried to spend as much time in the moment as humanly possible, not worrying about the past or the future. It’s the living in the moment that let me realize all I’ve detailed here and so much that I didn’t write. If this is what golf has given me in the past two weeks, I can’t wait to see what it has in store for me.