25 YEARS OF GOLF TRIP

 

Brotherhood

One group's commitment to 

support and golf

by Arnie

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    Four friends converged upon Palm Springs, California for a three-day 'meet in the heat'. For the 25th straight year, there would indeed be a golf trip. Yes, in the middle of a pandemic, during tense social strife, and amongst multiple natural disasters... it felt like the trip had to be made.

    In the midst of a relentless 2020, there had also been a series of personal tragedies, familial health concerns, and heartache, which ultimately helped to cement the mandate for the annual late-August trip. Pity and despair would not dominate this trip, however. Instead, unwavering support and brotherhood would win out; in a word, the retreat that was part group therapy session/part nature trek/part varying qualities of inconsistent golf, was...EPIC!

    Flashback to 1996, when a group of eight high-school friends from Cincinnati organized a golf trip which would be the genesis of what would become an annual pilgrimage of food, drink, golf, debauchery, and belly laughs. Over the next few years, after a hodge-podge of various characters and iterations, the group became a consistent seven and this author was lucky enough to be inserted as the permanent eighth member of said group. Having been a college housemate of one of the original members and fitting in well with the group was good enough for this author to earn the spot.

     From the early oughts to present day - with a couple of exceptions - the group has consisted of Matty (college friend), Jonesy, Teddy, Wils, K-Fed, Stel, Hips, and Arnie (that's me!). Trips to Nevada, Colorado, West Virginia, and Florida eventually gave way to the wonderful golf of Myrtle Beach, which became a constant for most of the next 14 years, buoyed by a wonderful Italian restaurant in Little River, SC where we held our (terrible) jacket ceremonies for the losers and received top-notch wait service from our designated server, Rachel.

    A couple of years into the Myrtle experiment, Stel mentioned at dinner, (paraphrasing) "do you guys realize that none of us have a brother?... I think that might be why we get along so well; we're like the brothers none of us ever had" A very astute observation of a bond that comes up nearly every year at the "champions dinner".

    Fast-forward to 2019, to now seemingly a much simpler time, a great farewell to Myrtle Beach as annual host to our golf trip, as our 24th trip winded down and we started to discuss a unique and special spot that # 25 deserved. Punta Cana, Northern Michigan, Denver, and Pebble Beach were all considered, but ultimately Palm Springs won out, by a 4-2-2 blind vote. Palm Springs!... in the desert!... in August, where the average high is 110 degrees F ?!?  Yes, that Palm Springs!

    In February of 2020, the trip was booked and our 'Christmas in August' was set. We would limit the golf from previous years and some of us would be meeting on Wednesday versus the typical starting day of Thursday. A visit to Joshua Tree national park seemed mandatory, taking the place of Friday's typical 'back 18'. Over the years, we would dial back from 90 holes of golf over three days to just 72 and now the plan was for just 48 holes? Is that even a GOLF trip?!? Some of the golf geeks in the group may have taken serious issue with this duff if the Saturday round was not scheduled for the famed PGA West Stadium course in La Quinta. It was sure to provide a memorable round of golf for even hacks like us. The excitement was palpable. Fact is, we could have had everyone meet at a modest track in nearby Kentucky and would surely have made the best of it. After all, it really was truly about just getting together and keeping the tradition alive. However, it did call for a special trip...we needed it to be special and it felt that way for all of about one month.

    Then, along with the rest of the world and nation, Covid-19 (figuratively, not literally) smacked us in the face in March and put the ultimate golf trip in limbo. As lockdowns validated the seriousness of the pandemic, the group remained optimistic about the prospect of being able to indeed safely meet in the heat in Palm Springs in late August.

    April and May came and went and neither the health of the country nor the personal lives of the group could escape crisis. It was early June when Matty would reach out to his brothers with a bombshell of a text, announcing that he was splitting with his wife of 24 years. His heart was broken and we knew that he needed maximum support from us. Emotionally, he needed at least as much from us as we were able to give when he needed it last. At six years old, his oldest son would need a bone marrow transfer to survive a diagnosis of Acute Aplastic Anemia. His baby sister was the match he needed to save his life. Now 18 and 12, Max and Ellie were healthy and their 15-year-old brother, Alex, was sandwiched in the middle. 

    As a group, we stood ready to again support the family through what is sure to be another tough stretch.

As Matty started to sort out a new season of life, corona continued to rage on and upset lives and plans. It was not without reservation, but Matty quickly responded "I'm in, Covid might be better than this f*!%ing divorce." Jonesy, the organizer of this year's trip, was also automatically assumed as an "in". Afterall, Matty and Jonesy were the only two of the group to make each of the 24 previous trips, including Myrtle 2011, in the middle of hurricane Irene. 

    A month prior, the regrets started to come in, with Wils, Hips, Stel, and eventually K-Fed bowing out due to family and health concerns. This author had similar concerns, but decided the risk was worth the reward and Teddy was also in need of the trip and would be flying in from Pittsburgh. Everyone's decisions were respected and understood; only having half of our squad put a damper on the anticipation, but we were excited that we had a foursome to keep the tradition alive.

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THE TRIP

DAY 1

    On the 27th day of August, twenty-twenty, Arnie, Jonesy, and Matty converged on LAX from Cincinnati. Upon landing and grabbing the rental car, it was off to the obligatory In-N-Out Burger and then back to grab Teddy to head toward Palm Springs. 

    We checked into our modest condo and then straight to golf. Jonesy birdied Hole 1 after his 40-yard blind chip found the bottom of the cup. The rest of the round was fairly uneventful, with the exception of two lessons learned: 1) The afternoon desert wind can be treacherous and 2) Hydration is indeed essential in August desert heat. Jonesy and Arnie won the day in the best ball/scramble format and enjoyed pizza at the expense of Matty and Teddy (didn't have his wallet on him).

DAY 2

    Morning golf was much more enjoyable and the Firecliff course was very nice. The heat was still very much an issue, but we all agreed that the dry heat was better than the typical South Carolina humidity. Matty would win his match versus Jonesy 4 & 2, while Arnie pushed his match with Teddy. Team BGSU would enjoy the spoils of steak and red wine, provided by Jonesy and Teddy (we sewed his wallet inside his short pocket). But first, a quick bathe in the pool was in order... and then, a 45-minute trip to Joshua Tree National Park for an evening hike.

    We decided on the Ryan Mountain Trail, a manageable 3-mile hike, with an elevation change of 1050 feet. The somewhat random choice would become a highlight of the trip. Gorgeous views of the rock formations and a sea of Joshua trees stimulated the senses with each step of the steep climb. A little over a mile up, we came to a false summit, with a perfect two-armed Joshua tree planted for a perfect photo opportunity and a rest for Matty. Jonesy, Teddy, and Arnie trekked a bit further to the summit. "Arnie, take five minutes to meditate", Jonesy suggested, as Teddy already sat in deep thought. There we sat, naturally socially distanced, taking in beauty that was seemingly becoming more and more scarce in the world. Describing journeys as "spiritual" had always seemed a bit hokey and cliche to this author, but there was certainly something out there… for this group… on this day.

    Jonesy took the lead and the pace seemed brisk as the steep terrain created rhythmic momentum. The halfway point brought about another animal that none of us had seen in person, as Jonesy bounded down, his step just a few feet from a snake. Jolted into a quick slither, the snake moved toward cover, but not without identifying itself. The rattle was unmistakable. “Whoa”, Jonesy blurted, grinding the line to a halt. “I almost stepped on him”! “There he is, under the rock, you can see his tail sticking up”. After some consternation, we quickly filed past him without further incident.

    “We have to agree, no more joking about snakes,” Matty insisted. We finished the hike as dusk fell across the park and marveled about the adventure all the way back to the condo. There, we enjoyed our Pittsburgh-style steaks and red wine and planned for the day ahead. 

DAY 3

    The crew were able to avoid hangovers and kept the tradition of Saturday-morning breakfast alive, leaving us with just enough time for a quick dip in the pool, before heading to PGA West for our 1:00 tee time.

    We would be playing the Pete Dye-designed Stadium course… the very same course the pros tackle each January for the Desert Classic tour stop. The very same course with the signature Par 3 island green -- #17, “Alcatraz”.

    Though we had joked about playing from the tips, we took the advice of the starter and, given our collective golfing talent, decided to play the combo tees. The first couple of holes did not seem terribly hard, but several side-mound and many beach-in-the-desert lies later the course had validated its difficulty.

We made the turn, staying hydrated with various fluids, and had all settled in and were playing some relatively decent golf…then the famed 17, Alcatraz. “Remember, as many shots as it takes to get over”, this author exclaimed.

    Matty, the only single-handicap (having hit 9.6 for the first time just a few weeks prior) in the group, stepped to the tee and lasered the flag at 131.1 yards. With a gorgeous mountain backdrop and a slight breeze in his face, Arnie grabbed his 9 iron, took his swing and fatted it 15 yards short into the water. Teddy was next and the lefty hit his signature cut, but it faded into the water. Jonesy found the green, drawing one to about 20 feet, left and deep.

    Matty had swapped his laser for an 8 iron, choked up a bit, and absolutely smoothed one right at it. “First hole-in-one of golf trip”, Jonesy immediately quipped, as he had a hundred other times whenever anyone pured an iron on a Par 3. One bounce and… “that’s in the jar!” Jonesy confidently stated. Teddy agreed, but they were forward and to the right. Back at the tee, Matty and Arnie weren’t so sure. Teddy and Arnie would take two more shots each to get on and the reluctantly giddy Matty took the wheel of the cart and followed across to the green. “I’m nervous”, Matty mentioned. “I only see three balls”, Arnie optimistically stated, as the bridge was crossed.

    Could it be? Perhaps a butterfly flapped its wings back in temporarily forgotten Ohio, with good vibes carried across country to the “spirit frog” on Ryan’s Mountain to the rattlesnake waiting to say hello on nature’s steps to an absolutely splendid golf shot on one of the most iconic holes in golf. Did Matty just find his very first ace as the culmination of an unlikely chain of events?

    The group anxiously walked closer and Matty exploded with emotion as he saw the ball in the cup. He jumped with joy, kissed the ground, and soaked up the moment. We hugged and jumped in celebration and then stood to the side as Matty enjoyed his moment. The group was choked up, appreciating the moment and being so stoked for their brother, who had been through so much recently.

    “Max and Alex, I’m in!”, Matty yelled joyfully to the capturing video. At 18 and 15, respectively, the sons both had aces on their resumes and were pretty good about needling their 49-year-old father for not being a member of the club.

    Maybe it wasn’t a chain of events… maybe it was just good-old-fashioned karma from Matty’s generous donation to motivate Arnie’s half-marathon training in honor of a dear friend recently diagnosed with peritoneal mesothelioma… maybe it was his “walk with God” early that morning… maybe he just deserved it! Either way, the universe rewarded the group with just the most special memory any of us could have hoped for, his missing brothers included. 

    From underwear dancing to shake weights to keno to pepper grinders to pocket meat to left-handed shakes to the always-out-of-inventory chocolate ice cream and now the magical ace, these memories will live on, as will the group’s unshakeable brotherhood.