“Hey, you need to get back on the other side of the rope.” For the third time that day, a gruff security guard was attempting to eject me from my spot inside the ropes at the 3M Open. He, like the others, probably assumed some punk kid had managed to slip past a volunteer in an effort to see some players up close. Resisting the urge to fire back a retaliatory quip, I responded by calmly displaying my media credential. I mean, in his defense, he wasn’t exactly wrong.
Ever since I learned to walk, I have loved to play golf, and ever since I learned to read, I have loved to write. So, naturally, the day I realized I wasn’t going to make it to the PGA Tour was the day I decided I was going to be a golf writer. When I set foot on the University of Minnesota campus as a freshman, one of the first things I did, after selling one of my kidneys to pay for my textbooks, was secure a job at a campus newspaper.
Two years later, the PGA Tour announced that they were bringing an event to the Twin Cities, and my elation grew at the thought of covering my first professional golf event. By some stroke of luck, I managed to finagle a media credential to the event and the inside the ropes access that came with it. Over the course of five days at the 3M Open, I walked forty-nine miles, absorbing everything I saw and heard along the way.
For somebody who has followed the PGA Tour for years from the couch, walking among the assembled media made me feel like I had stepped inside my TV screen. It’s so bizarre to see people like Todd Lewis, Amanda Balionis, Gary McCord, and Ian Baker-Finch when they’re not “on.” And the only thing more bizarre than seeing these media types is meeting one of them.
On Thursday, I managed to work up the courage to introduce myself to Alan Shipnuck in the media center. Of course, this little conversation only took place after spending half an hour trying to come up with a witty opening line, a line that I mentally scrapped while walking over to say hello.
Despite my nerves, this exchange went far better than the one I had with Nick Faldo on Saturday. While I stood on the range watching players warm up for their third round, the Englishmen did a double-take as he walked past me, and then giggled while directing me to go stand behind the ropes. By the time I had rebounded from my brief state of bewilderment and pointed to my credential, Faldo had already turned his back and I returned to my state of full-fledged confusion.
However, while I greatly enjoyed seeing all of the media personalities out and about, most of my takeaways from the week were related to the golf that was played.
Watching the PGA Tour on TV gives you the impression that just about every player is supernatural. But walking next to those guys for hours at a time shifted the way I see tour players. The closer I got to them, the more human they appeared.
What really drove home this point were some of the little moments I got to witness inside the ropes: a resigned sigh from Bryson DeChambeau after a missed putt, a hot piece of Tour gossip delivered in hushed tones by Matthew Wolff to his caddy on the range, an unpleasant interaction between an attention-hungry fan and Kevin Na’s caddy while walking to a tee. These are reminders that in the 1.5 seconds it takes to complete a golf swing, yes, these guys are spectacular. But, for the rest of their day, they’re just like you and me.
These guys feel stress. Cameron Champ certainly did that week, as he flew in Sean Foley on Tuesday morning for an emergency lesson, and the two practiced on the range for hours on end while Champ’s father anxiously looked on. Champ then played his first seven holes of the tournament in +5 and missed the cut, shooting 75-74. If you were just scanning the PGA Tour app this week looking at the scores, you would never realize just how heavy Champ’s shoulders looked while he was playing and how discombobulated the rookie appeared on the course.
These guys are friends. Phil Mickelson heckled Colt Knost on the second hole during their practice round together, making a comment to Knost about how the Dallas native had missed his calling on the LPGA Tour. Phil then made it clear to Knost, quite sincerely, that the heart and grit Knost displays on the course is a source of inspiration for him.
But, most of all, these guys are really, really, really good. I followed Matthew Wolff and Collin Morikawa for all 18 holes on Sunday, and the level of golf that the two exhibited left me speechless at times. I am just 309 days older than Wolff, and only 488 days younger than Morikawa. In theory, the three of us should have some kind of shared life experience, but watching those two down the stretch made me wonder at times how we’re all members of the same species.
During the most important round of their young professional careers, Wolff and Morikawa showed no fear, shooting 65 and 66, respectively. But this lack of angst didn’t appear to be a result of an emotional shutdown, undergone in an effort to project a steely demeanor. Instead, the two exuded a casual intensity, a phenomenon that seems oxymoronic until seen first-hand.
Walking the grounds of TPC Twin Cities, I felt the tectonic plates of golf shifting below my feet. Golfers aren’t supposed to be cold-blooded killers six weeks out of college, they’re supposed to gain experience over time and “learn to win.” But players like Jordan Spieth and Justin Thomas showed today’s young guns that experience isn’t a prerequisite to success, just as Tiger Woods taught Spieth and Thomas the same lesson years before.
However, the main reason that Wolff’s victorious performance on Sunday stunned me was I had watched the same player struggle with his swing at the range on Tuesday. That morning, Wolff’s coach George Gankas stressed to Wolff the importance of completing his rotation. Throughout the week Wolff’s caddy, Steve Lohmeyer, echoed this statement to his player right before he would step into a shot.
Witnessing that exchange at the range on Tuesday made my experience on Sunday that much more rewarding, as I saw first-hand a week’s worth of effort translate into a life-changing moment for one of golf’s next superstars. This was one of the many moments that made the week one of the best of my life.
Luckily, I know this newfound access to the players will not go to my head, as next week I will be forced to give it up and once again watch the PGA Tour through my TV screen like the rest of you plebeians fans.
Moving forward though, in all seriousness, spending five days inside the ropes taught me that it’s okay to meet your heroes. They’re not superhuman, they’re flawed human beings, just like the rest of us. This realization made Wolff and Morikawa’s play on Sunday all the more inspiring because I realized that if they could summon the will to reach their potential when it mattered the most, I had run out of excuses to do the same.
(That’s me, there in the green)
Dropping the Mike 