There’s an old Jerry Seinfeld bit that pokes fun at how people view those who won silver medals instead of gold: “What happened? Did you trip? Didn’t hear the gun go off?” Seinfeld highlights the preposterous fact that a fraction-of-an-inch is the difference between the “greatest guy in the world” and “never heard of him.”
Well, the same can be said of golf. You see, the vast majority of golfers stink – we have trouble breaking 90 or even 100. Then there’s a smaller group of “better players” who will shoot in the 80’s regularly and break into the 70’s once-in-a-while. Meanwhile, the tour players are a tiny, elite group of talented athletes who are making money because they are the best golfers the world has to offer.
But what about that other group? You know – those scratch golfers that can shoot around par most of the time, but are just a smidge shy of that elite “best in the world” class? In my opinion, these people have it the worst.
I once worked with a woman who had just gone through a terrible divorce. Did he cheat on her? No. Beat her? No. Verbally abuse her? No. This guy lost his marriage because he was a really good golfer – the type of player we average hacks are always striving to be.
He consistently shot near par, and won many local tournaments. These talents led him on a quest to make a mini tour (to compare to baseball, this would be the A or double-A leagues of golf, where the Nationwide Tour would be equivalent to triple-A). This kept him on the road and away from home. Friends and family would praise his golfing abilities and encourage him to keep trying to qualify for any tour he could. But he wasn’t making any money doing this – in fact, he was spending more than he could make, and at 30, he was neglecting other responsibilities in his life. Thus came the inevitable strain on his marriage, fights with his wife, and subsequent separation. He’s never qualified for the PGA tour. I’m not sure he even qualified for a mini tour.
But even if he had made a mini tour, would his life be more stable? Would the money start rolling in? Hardly. In the April 2010 edition of Cigar Aficionado, there’s an article penned by Hooters Tour-player, Nick Mackay. Mackay, perhaps unintentionally, paints an uninviting portrait of life on a mini tour – driving across the American South, racking up more than 30,000 miles on his car annually and paying over a grand to enter a tourney where he may not even make the cut (which also means he wouldn’t get paid).
Mackay will turn 28 in May, and it appears other responsibilities are catching up to him. “Due to several factors” he only played in 10 events in 2009. And he disclosed that being short on cash forced him to skip the PGA Q School in 2010: “…the hefty entry fee is the main reason I did not sign up to go back to [Q] school for the third time this year. It was a tough decision, but in my circumstance, paying the rent during the winter took precedence over career ambitions.” Regardless, Mackay still says he would never trade life on the mini tour for a steady paycheck. I wish him all the luck in the world. But that’s a tough sell when you’re pushing 30 and are partaking in what he describes as “glorified gambling” for a living.
The reality is we all want to be good golfers. But to be that good yet not good enough? Sometimes…just sometimes, in a fleeting moment of sheer arrogance and/or bitterness, I like to think I’m the one in the better position – glad that I’m not good enough to consider chasing down pipe dreams while wasting my time and money.
But that’s all BS. The moment I finish posting this, I’m off to buy a new driver – one that I hope will make me a better player; closer to the level of Mr. Mackay, the divorcee or anyone else who ever had a shot at the gold medal.
