US Open Sunday: A Father's Day Classic

I have many memories with my father growing up.  We hunted, fished, hiked, and biked.  In 1994 I took up the game of golf, which my father had played for about a decade.  Almost instantly golf became what we did together, even though we still partook in the other activities.

The game of golf can teach so much more to children than the game itself, and I am a beneficiary of many lessons provided by the game.  Even now, I am hard pressed to think of anything I would rather do with my father if I had just one more day to spend with him.

Growing up, my father would caddy for me in tournaments if he had the time.  More often than not this led to better play, as he had a way of keeping me calm and "in the moment" as they say.  This is something I struggled with as a youth, and I think every player could use a reminder of this extremely important concept from time to time.  In the summer of 2005, at the tender age of 21 I was fortunate enough to advance all the way to the Final Match of the New Hampshire Amateur with my father on the bag the entire way.  I was able to win that championship and to this day it is one of my proudest accomplishments.  However, it is not my #1 memory of golf with my Dad...

Six years earlier, at Duston Country Club, where I learned the game, my father was by my side as I competed for the Men's Club Championship.  A year prior, at the age of 14, I had lost this tournament very narrowly and spent about 363 days getting over it.  I desperately wanted to win and as most know in golf, wanted something so badly doesn't make it any easier.  In fact, it often makes it exceedingly difficult.  The final round on this day was no different.  After missing shot after shot, I continued to scramble for pars, maintaining a two shot lead with 9 holes to play.  On the 16th hole, after many 8-10 foot par saving putts had fallen for me, and my opponents had missed as many for birdie to cut into my lead, I canned yet another clutch par putt.  I remember saying to my Dad, "I am so nervous!  My stomach hurts, and I can't feel my hands..."  He calmly replied something to the effect of "You got this!  You're playing great!  There's no need to be nervous..."  This calm demeanor by the man I had grown up trying to emulate in every way allowed me to press on, and play the final two holes confidently, winning the Men's Club Championship at the age of 15.

Years later my father would tell me that after that putt on the 16th hole and the assurance he offered me, he was "So nervous he wanted to puke..."  To this day, that is not only one my fondest memories on a golf course, but one of my fondest memories with my father.

I am truly lucky to have been born to TWO wonderful parents, and I certainly hope I have made them proud and continue to do so.

Not sure what is in store for the fathers on the leader board of the US Open this year, but it should be great theater and there's one thing for sure, I bet there are some proud fathers out there!

A Man in Love

It was about 94 degrees, a four MPH breeze gently swirled through my hair, and the sun had finally given in after baking my skin for a few hours, it was disappearing over the western hills of Central Texas...I stood in the 18th fairway at The University of Texas Golf Club, still 225 yards away from a back hole location after a 300 yard tee shot right down the middle.  The 517 yard par four finishing hole is typically downwind to make it play a little shorter, but today the lack of any real wind made it play to it's full potential.  Not only is the hole long, but the green is tricky, and the deep bunkers guard it's right side while a stream meanders from behind the green that guards the left side as well...

Before I stepped into this golf shot I had an epiphany.  Here I was in one of the most beautiful places on earth, with two gentlemen I don't play golf with enough, taking in beautiful weather, and all because of the game of golf.  The game that has taught me more about life than anything else.  A game that just recently taught me an age old lesson - "Don't mix business with pleasure..."

Turning pro in the fall of 2010 seemed like a dream come true at the time, and don't let me ever tell you that I wasn't excited to my very core about it, because I was.  I had put off the decision since graduating from college.  I always had a reason not to play professionally but in hindsight it was always the wrong one.  I finally turned pro to enter the PGA Tour Qualifying Tournament.  This was an incredible experience that I will never forget, nor will I ever regret.  However, after failing to move on to Stage Two of the process by a single shot in Kingwood, TX that October, professional golf turned out to be a very bitter time in my life.  As it would turn out, playing the game for money is really no fun for me.  I play the game to compete, with myself and others.  That is the single greatest thing about golf, you can always get better at it!  I have such a passion for the game and I truly enjoy helping anyone else that shares the passion for the game and the passion to compete that I do.  When I played in tournaments as a professional though, my passion went away...

The game of golf now became a game of expenses, time, paychecks, taxes, and overtime.  It was a job in every sense of the word...It took me about 18 months and over a half a dozen tournaments to put it into words, but I had simply taken something I enjoyed and tried to turn it into a profitable business.  Anyone who has done this, whether they succeeded or not, will tell you that it is a very tricky move to make.  I had mixed business with pleasure, and that was a mistake.  

About a week ago, I finally sat down with my laptop and filled out the online application for reinstatement of my amateur status in golf.  Since then, I found that my passion for the game has rekindled itself to it's original intensity seemingly though hitting the "submit" button...

Golf is a game I play because I love it.  I play it for pleasure and nothing else.  I was an amateur in every sense of the word, and by the end of this year I will be an amateur again.  I am excited to compete on all levels of the amateur game again with a lifetime goal of playing in The Masters.  The only way to do this as an amateur is likely through winning a USGA event, which are difficult to even qualify for, but I have my whole life!  I think that's a pretty good goal...

So in the 18th fairway, I stood contemplating that shot, but I also remembered just how in love with this game I am.  I never really stopped, I just took a step in the wrong direction.  The fact that I hit a majestic 4-iron to 12 feet and holed the putt was inconsequential.  I could have hit it in the water and come to the same conclusion.  I've made the right choice, and I may be deeper in love than I've ever been...

A Shot of Redemption in Kingwood

471 days after the heartbreak of a lifetime I returned to Kingwood, TX.

The last time I was in Kingwood was for the first stage of PGA Tour Q School. I was struggling with my game, but doing what pros do, putting it together. Including my final round 71, three of my four rounds were under par despite not having my best stuff. Unfortunately a third round 77 had put me in a position where I had to put up a number in order to advance to the next stage.

The top 22 players and ties advanced, and as it would turn out, I finished Tied for 23rd place, by a single shot. One swing, one chip, one judgement of the wind or slope, one subtle break of a green, one club-selection...It would be so easy to go back and find one wasted shot of the 289 that I hit over four days.

My return was on the opposite side of the bag, caddying for my friend Mark in an Adams Pro Tour Series Event. Out of boredom in the practice round I asked Mark if he would mind if I hit the occasional shot, and he obliged. I had found a Dunlop golf ball literally submerged in mud on the 12th hole, and decided that was good enough to hit a few times.

We arrived at the 15th hole, a par three measuring 162 yards. Mark hit a beautiful shot, drawing towards the front hole location, coming to rest about 5 feet away. I got up there and swiftly kicked the gobs of mud from the face of his 8-iron and dropped my Dunlop onto the brilliant green rye grass. It came to rest on a nice piece of turf so I just decided to play it as it was...I sent the ball flying high and to the right of the hole and as it started to draw back Mark said "Do me one better..." My ball landed and started rolling, and we assumed it was near Mark's, about 5 feet away.

Upon arrival to the green, we realized there was only one ball below the hole, Mark's Titleist. He immediately asked "Did you jar it?!" I replied "I don't know. Where else could it be?"

Mark ran up to the hole, peeking downward and saw my muddy Dunlop lying there in just one shot, and immediately burst out laughing. I was quick to join him. We both spent the next ten minutes discussing all of the ways that I was NOT properly prepared to hit a perfect golf shot. I was wearing layers that I wouldn't wear if I were playing. I was using Mark's golf club, which has a different lie angle, and is a different brand than mine are. I was using a Dunlop golf ball covered in mud. The club was covered in mud from Mark's previous shot. I just goes to show that sometimes things are going to happen whether you're prepared or not.

I had to find a new ball to hit occasionally, as the Dunlop will now be filed away with my other three hole-in-one balls. I proceeded to hit poor golf shots the rest of the day as well as laugh whenever it returned to my mind that I had made an ace in the fashion that I did...It may not have been worth as much as an advancement at Q School would have been, but it's one shot of redemption that will leave me with a fond golf memory of Kingwood, TX.

Open for Business in San Antonio

I left Austin Friday Night with my friend Mark, headed for San Antonio to play in the 36-hole San Antonio Open Saturday and Sunday. Both of us had worked a long day, all day Friday and had high hopes for the weekend. Despite not finding a lot of time for practice leading up to the event, I found myself as confident as I had been since turning professional. I felt the layout suited my game, as it didn't really allow a lot of room for long drives, and forced approaches from the 150-175 yard range.

The first round started slowly, with 8 pars. I broke the string of pars the bad way with a bogey on #9. I failed to get it back until 13, with a birdie on the par 5. I made par on every hole on the way in for an even par 72 that included 16 pars. I had only hit 11 greens, and although I missed some good opportunities, I certainly got away with a few mistakes as well. I felt I was capable of a better score but with higher winds looming for the final round I didn't know what to expect.

The final round started similarly, even par through 4, then a birdie on 5 followed by a great par saver on 6. I finished the front 9 at one under par, then that's when I turned it on. Birdies on 10, 12, and 13 got me to 4 under par for the round and the tournament. Unfortunately, a couple of bad swings down the stretch led to a couple of bogies, and the birdie train had stopped. I had to settle for a 2 under par 70, and a total of 142 for the tournament.

As it turns out, that total was good for 6th place alone, and 3rd place among the pros. That came with my largest paycheck as a professional golfer, and now that I think about it, of my life. It's a good feeling for now, but an even better feeling knowing that there is still so much room for improvement. Now I face another off-season, but unlike last year, that ended in disappointment after missing moving on at Q School by a single shot, I ended this year on a bit of a high note. Now there's a few months where I can address some minor swing issues and make plans for 2012.

How I Play Golf

If I had a dollar for every time someone told me that I should work on my attitude regarding golf I'd probably be a millionaire...Its a funny reference, because if there's anything in the world I love more than money, it's golf!

Three years ago this Saturday I arrived in Austin, TX with all of my earthly belongings packed tight in my car. Some of the things I left back in New Hampshire included my parents, the rest of my distant family, a job as an insurance professional, my health insurance, many friends, and most importantly, hundreds of people who believed in me. All of these sacrifices were made for a single love of mine, and believe me, I love my job, but it's not money...

I started a new job, my first at a golf course outside the pro shop, making minimum wage. A 30 minute drive each way on a toll road left me quickly overwhelmed and I found myself wondering whether or not I could sustain any sort of lifestyle. However, I never questioned the goal, just the circumstances leading to it. In order to adjust, I moved closer to my job, I traded my car for a far more economic one, and eliminated a few things in my life in order to free up some funds for neccessities. Do I have any regrets? Zero.

This morning, while sharing a round that could only be described as "casual" with a friend of mine, Steve, he reminded me that I am very hard on myself, even during a "fun round". Steve is a pupil of mine, and I desperately want him to improve his golf game because I can see that he loves it in a similar manner that I do. However, this comment fell on deaf ears, as I have heard it enough times that I don't allow it to hold water anymore...I tried explaining to Steve, that no matter what I may have called myself, or said outloud, that I arrive over the next shot thinking ONLY of that shot. The fact that I got upset in the first place is only evidence of my desire to succeed. I can't tell you whether Steve believed me, or whether he can fathom the concept, but I promise you it's true.

The bottom line is, telling me that I'm too hard on myself, or too negative, or hot headed, etc. is easy. It's the easiest thing you could ever say to somebody. Nobody would ever say "Craig, stop getting upset, you're just not that good..." so it's an easy out to suggest an attitude adjustment.

I admire the players out there that can maintain a calm, cool, collected demeanor on the golf course all the time, no matter what the situation. Hunter Mahan, Rickie Fowler, The Late Payne Stewart to name a few. However, those guys are not me, and they approach the mental portion of the game as differently as they do the physical. Imagine if Rickie Fowler listened to someone that told him "The other guys don't swing like that..." and that he needed to change. Rickie Fowler has a horrific swing. If anyone else tried to hit a proper golf shot from his poisition at the top it would result in a sure shank...But, as fate would have it this swing belongs to nobody else but Rickie. It's how HE does it. He owns it.

I fully understand that my words may be choice after a bogey, a three-putt, a botched up & down, or a poor tee shot. I may refer to myself by a name I would never consider calling my biggest adversary. However, that's just how I do it. I have to release that bad energy in my body created from adversity. It's as big a flaw as Rickie's laid off backswing, but it's how I do it...If I don't, then it will affect the next shot I hit.

So how do I play golf? With passion. I play this game hard. I play it true, and I love it to death. Even if it's not always good to me...

The Path Less Traveled

In the middle of June I decided that I would take a personal leave of absence from work that would last most of the summer. I'm not much of a planner, but a trip of this magnitude had to include at least some plans...

The main reason for the trip was golf. I had planned on playing in the Greater Bangor Open in Maine in late July, followed by the New Hampshire Open the following week. After that I would have a couple of weeks until the Rhode Island Open which I would hit on the way out of town, and zip back to Texas in time to play in "Hotter than Hell", the summer version of Stephen F Austin's Survival Tournaments. After this I would finally return to Austin, return to work, and reassess my game, my life, and my aspirations going forward. Little did I know that this trip would involve so many non-golf events that would mean more to me than the golf did.

First, I stopped in Columbus, Ohio to see two of my best friends in the world for a few days. I experienced the "Thurminator", a 1.5 pound ground beef behemoth not once, but twice! I also got to experience the nightlife on the campus of The Ohio State University which was a lot of fun. The most important thing on this part of the trip however was meeting my friend Ben's now fiance, Kristen. Ben and I go way back, and needless to say, I care for him like a brother and I knew he was serious about Kristen, so it was important to him and myself that we got along...I'm sure he knows now that she has my full endorsement, he asked her to marry him about a month after my visit.

When I continued on to New Hampshire I had about three weeks until I headed to Maine for the GBO. I was fortunate to catch another college friend, Rob, in New York getting married to Nicole, they had dated since our days at Quinnipiac University. I also decided to get on the bag for a good friend in the New Hampshire Amateur. Jim Cilley is a good player, and we used to practice together when I lived in New Hampshire, so I knew his game well. However, he had never advanced beyond the round of 32 before. We both felt I could help him in this endeavor, with my green-reading ability and experience having won this very tournament 6 years ago...It was a magical week for Jim. He marched all the way to the Semifinals before he had a tight match. A miraculous shot from the woods on 16 gave him back a lead he would not relinquish, and only one man stood between him and the title, Nick MacDonald. Nick is without a doubt the best amateur golfer in the state of New Hampshire, and the defending New Hampshire Amateur Champion. The final was a battle the whole way, with lead changes and momentum shifts. Jim desperately clung to a 1-up advantage down the stretch, all the way to the final hole where he met a 6 foot par putt to win. After reading the putt, I gave Jim a spot as we had done all week. As he addressed the putt I told him sternly, "If you hit it there, you can't miss..." He rolled the ball inexorably, right at the spot I had shown him just outside of the hole. The 30 year old pumped his fist and yelled with youthful exuberance as the ball disappeared into the hole. He was met by a hug from me, then by his father who was crying uncontrollably. His father then hugged me saying through his tears, "Thank you so much, he could not have done this without you..." I had some wonderful moments during this trip, but this may have been the best of them all.

From there, I focused on my own golf game which left a lot to be desired after a week of minimal practice. I played very poorly in Bangor, and then in the New Hampshire Open as well. I was disappointed in myself and my lack of ability to play the game I love so much still. I struggled to execute even the simplest of shots and watched the players around me demonstrate why they are better time and time again. I hadn't felt this level of frustration on a golf course in a long time, and I'll be honest, I hated it. It frustrated me enough to decide against playing in the Rhode Island Open and save the $400 entry fee.

I spent the next few days on a lake with my father in Moultonborough, New Hampshire. Moultonborough may be the most beautiful place in the world during the summer, with the mountains framing the greenest of trees which ultimately give birth to the glassy waters of Lake Winnipesaukee, the perfect place to be left alone with your thoughts...

When we returned home, we decided that we'd extend our water activities and kayak a 15 mile leg of the Merrimack River the following day. This turned out to be 10 hours of kayaking, fishing, swimming, and joking that I'll never forget. The kind of day with dad that boys remember when they become fathers themselves...

From there I took a trip to Philadelphia to see another good friend Dominic marry his bride Nicole. Philadelphia was an absolute blast as well, it included some golf, poker, laughs, nightlife, and of course the wedding. I don't feel as though I left any fun behind me in Philly, I needed a full day to recover from that portion of the trip.

When I returned to New Hampshire I had just two days left before leaving for Rhode Island, where I decided I'd grab the straps for my friend Mark in the Rhode Island Open, since I wasn't competing myself. I spent those last two days laying low, and spending some precious time with my mom. When you live so far from family, you don't take an hour or two for granted anymore...

Mark was another winner of the New Hampshire Amateur (2008) and turned pro last summer and has had some success in state and city opens, he also was going to be on our team in Sealy for "Hotter than Hell" so it made sense for me to go along and then we could share the drive back to Texas. Mark played well, and I'd like to think I helped him as he fired rounds of 68, 67, 69 to claim the title by 2 shots. Regardless of how poorly I played, I feel like I could be in the running for caddy of the year, after all, I haven't lost yet...

Unfortunately for Mark it was the shortest victory celebration ever, as we had 1,900 miles in front of us, and only 42 hours to cover them by car...By this time of course I felt right at home in my car, but it didn't mean I wanted to be there. The drive went relatively smoothly, and I was glad when it was over, it felt great to be back in the greatest state in the Union!

"Hotter than Hell" offered more of the same for me. Golf that is just not quite what I used to be accustomed to. Mediocrity at best, and absolute failure to step up in a big spot and hit a big shot. We finished fourth, and made minimal money, profiting nothing for ourselves or our sponsor. The only good thing left was being able to mount up yet again and continue on to Austin.

After getting in at 11:00 Sunday night I slept in my own bed for the first time in 52 days. In that time I had driven 7,664 miles, been in 22 states, seen two weddings, an engagement, the birth of a friend's daughter, played 3 golf tournaments, caddied in two others (winning them both), laughed so hard my stomach and throat hurt, and I even cried twice...I took this trip figuring that I would have a much clearer picture of what I wanted to do with my life when I returned. I have zero regrets about this trip. Zero. However the picture is so blurry right now I can't even begin to decipher it all at this point. Perhaps it's time to walk away from golf, at least professionally. Perhaps I should look into caddying on a much more serious level. Who knows? I know that right now it feels great to be back in Austin, and I'm going to take a week or two and just reflect on my summer. I don't have to decide anything right now. I'm just so proud of myself for taking the risks I have to get to this point. No matter what happens from here, I will have no regrets. That is priceless.

Fear of Commitment

Most guys my age that are still single, like myself, are accused of being afraid of commitment. I don't always deal well with criticism, even when it's constructive...I usually fire back with something along the lines of "I'm just waiting for the right girl..." or "Why would I rush into anything if she may not be the one?" I know what you're thinking, "Isn't this blog about golf?" Yes it is.

To continue with the metaphor, a man, or a woman for that matter would never get to the alter and stand in front of his or her family, their spouse's family and friends, and most importantly in front of the Lord himself and make a commitment to someone they weren't sure they wanted to spend eternity with. After all, that is what the idea of marriage is all about, or at least what it used to be about.

Looking back on the Greater Bangor Open, now two days removed from missing the cut, I have realized that my most fundamental flaw was being committed to nothing. I wasn't committed to most of my shots, I wasn't committed to any sort of game plan for the tricky, short, and gimmicky layout of Bangor Municipal Golf Course, and most of all I wasn't committed to having fun during the tournament. I never committed to enjoying the process. I was merely concerned with the results. To go back to my metaphor of loving someone, wouldn't it be wrong to marry someone only because you wanted their money, or their children, or their house, etc.? Of course it would be...

Once I knew the cut was well out of reach for me, I decided with my very good friend Eric Goldthwaite, who was on the bag for the GBO, that I would play the final three holes using only my 7-iron. A little ode to my favorite golf movie, Tin Cup. In the movie, Kevin Costner's Character Roy McAvoy has a complete mental breakdown with his caddy during a US Open qualifier and breaks every club in his bag on the tenth tee, except his 7-iron. He plays the final nine holes in even par (successfully qualifying) using only that club which he claims to be "the only truly safe club in his bag..."

I played the final three holes par, bogey, par. This wasn't bad, especially since the last hole was a par 4 that plays as a par 5 for the members. However, after teeing off on the 16th hole, I enjoyed a walk with Eric, both of us smiling and laughing, and that's when it hit me: this was the first time I had committed to anything the entire week. We even left the bag behind, and would loop back for it after the round was completed, now that's faith in the process! For the first time all week I had fun on the golf course, and perhaps for the first time as a professional. I regret to admit that I have been making this mistake since turning pro last fall. I forgot to have fun when I played golf, as I always did when I was an amateur, and most importantly, I forgot to commit to it.

This is not to say I didn't have fun during the week. I shared a hotel room in Maine with three good friends to save some extra money and we had a blast together. The only part of the trip that wasn't great was the golf, unfortunately.

So, with the New Hampshire Open just two days away what am I to do in order to improve? Well, I need to commit. I will not play the entire tournament with a 7-iron though...On the trip back Eric and I talked over the challenges that Atkinson Country Club presents, and how to attack them properly. We devised a game plan that is tailored to my strengths as a golfer. We have decided to commit to the tournament, commit to every shot played, commit to the game plan, commit to enjoying the process, and most importantly to commit to the love and respect I have for the game of golf...

I may not be guaranteed to win. I may not be guaranteed to make a check. I may not even be guaranteed to make the cut. Commitment is a beautiful thing however, and if I can commit myself to these things which I have reflected upon then I am guaranteed one thing, and that is to not have any regrets...