People often ask me if I ever get tired of writing about golf. Sure, broken into its most simplistic form, the game is about getting a little white ball into a 4¼-inch diameter hole in the fewest number of strokes. So, to the uninitiated, how can that produce exciting material?
Golf, however, is so much more than scribbling a numeral into a square box; it’s about the players who sign those scorecards.
Who are these folks hoisting trophies and donning gold medals? What makes them tick? What’s their backstory? We see the rhythmic swings, but what about them as people?
We want to get beyond the smiling face with trophy in hand.
Matthew Fitzpatrick’s U.S. Open victory at The Country Club, where he won his U.S. Amateur crown nine years earlier, produced the idyllic Hollywood script. Minjee Lee following up a U.S. Girls’ Junior championship with a U.S. Women’s Open title 10 years later was equally compelling. The same for Padraig Harrington (U.S. Senior Open) becoming the first player from the Republic of Ireland to win a USGA title and Jill McGill’s return to the USGA winner’s circle at the U.S. Senior Women’s Open also made for great copy.
But as much fun as it is to write those pieces, it’s even more enjoyable to unearth stories about those unheralded players who don’t necessarily get into contention. In fact, it’s this group of competitors who generally produce the most poignant features.
Parents playing alongside their children. Siblings competing with and against each other. USGA championships feature competitors from all walks of life. Some have beaten medical odds; others have tried for decades just for the opportunity to tee it up in a USGA event.
Chris Biggins, an assistant golf professional at the Country Club of Birmingham (Ala.), was born with cerebral palsy, but that didn’t deter him from taking up the game and playing at a high level. The inaugural U.S. Adaptive Open provided a forum for him and 95 others who have mental or physical impairments to compete on the grandest stage at Pinehurst Resort & Country Club’s Course No. 6 in July.
As I scoured the list of U.S. Amateur Four-Ball sides this past spring, I came across the story of Mike Mottola and my jaw dropped. The Andover, Mass., resident, was a cancer survivor who nearly died while in his mid-20s. His story began with a misdiagnosis, and eventually led to him being placed in a medically induced coma. Doctors were prepared to read him his last rites. As Mottola recounted his story in such minute detail, it became more and more remarkable.
Mottola and his partner, Daniel Koerner, did not hoist a USGA trophy, nor did they even qualify for match play, but it didn’t matter. Mottola had already beaten the odds just to survive his cancer. Whatever happened in his first USGA appearance was pure gravy.
