Covering golf, at every level and on every tour, in 2020 was unlike anything our writers have experienced. Through the end of the year, our staff is looking back on what will forever stand out from the season of COVID – a season during which every aspect of the game we love was impacted by a global pandemic. Read the whole series here.
I was staying in a boutique hotel in Brussels after the 2018 Ryder Cup when I read a quote on, of all things, a Trip Advisor ad that spoke to me: “Traveling—it leaves you speechless, then turns you into a storyteller.”
I looked it up and it’s attributed to Ibn Battuta, a 14th-century Moroccan explorer and scholar. Those are words I’ve very much lived by covering 20-plus tournaments a year for more than a decade, which have taken me to far-flung places such as Singapore, China, Turkey, Israel, South Korea, Australia and New Zealand. The list goes on but you get the idea.
All of that came to a screeching halt in March when the PGA Tour and the golf world in general went on hiatus due to a global pandemic. I never left the country this year and avoided flying, well, like the plague. I don’t know about you but I haven’t exercised at a gym, gone to the movies, shaken hands or seen most of my family members, other than via Zoom calls, since March.
But there were a few early-season trips before the world changed that provided stories worth telling, including to the desert for the Waste Management Phoenix Open. It seems a lifetime ago that 20,000 drunk people ringed the 16th hole at TPC Scottsdale like the Romans at the Coliseum. The highlight of that week was a wide-ranging discussion with Golf Channel’s Brandel Chamblee that exploded into a three-part Q&A.
From there, it was on to Pebble Beach, and it doesn’t matter how many times I visit the Monterey Peninsula, it never gets old. The weather even cooperated. I got to break bread with some of my favorite folks that week and squeeze in 18 at Pacific Grove and take a test spin around TPC Harding Park. One evening, I was packing up my belongings from the media center and ready to hit up a sushi joint I discovered during the previous year’s U.S. Open visit, when a local writer that I had been chatting with at breakfast stopped by my desk and invited me over to his house to join his family’s dinner. That was an incredibly kind gesture. Traveling to exotic locales to play or watch golf doesn’t suck, but life on the road isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Having a good home-cooked meal and better conversation hit the spot and I appreciated it even more when the world soon after went into lockdown.
I flew the red eye home from California and I’ll never know for sure if I had coronavirus or just the run-of-the-mill flu but I was as sick as I’ve been for a long time the next two weeks and even had to WD from covering the Honda Classic with a high fever. This was pre-masks, hand sanitizers and runs on toilet paper. What a year!
The other meal I can’t help but think of is the annual Asado night at The Players, held on the eve of the tournament. It began at the Masters and was co-hosted by Spanish golfer Gonzalo Fernandez-Castano and the Argentine Golf Association. I remember one year telling Gonzo, who wasn’t yet eligible for the Masters, that he needed to win and a lot of people were depending on him so we could have asado. He smiled and told me, don’t worry, we’ll do Asado night at the Players if I don’t make the Masters. And that’s been the tradition ever since.
It is a gathering of two-dozen or so golf industry leaders from Latin America and elsewhere (including R&A chief Martin Slumbers and his wife) with R&A regional director of Latin America Mark Lawrie as grill master. Held at their oceanside rental property in Ponte Vedra under a tent, it’s become one of my favorite nights of the year – I think I’m still full from all the beef, Argentine wine and dulce de leche – but it became memorable as the last big dinner party I’ve attended. After the ceremonial drive of a few glow balls into the ocean, I drove home just shortly before 10 p.m. and was greeted with news that the Tour had come to its senses and canceled the Players. Not long after, the Masters was postponed and we’d endure a 91-day hiatus before another tournament round was contested. Remember how desperate we were for live competition that we were watching marble races?
Day 4 with no sports:
Marble1 racing is intense! pic.twitter.com/StgO4fY8VG
— CH𓂀IS☥MAS (@davdchristmas) March 15, 2020
During these uncertain times, golf was my salvation. Living in Florida, the courses remained open – though the beaches shut down for a while – and so Gary Koch would have declared my quarantine was better than most. With some extra time on my hands I decided now was the time to learn to hit a baby cut. I’d only been playing a boomerang draw – I prefer not to use that other four-letter word – for 40 years. Trying to overhaul my swing by digging it out of the dirt Hogan style has been an adventure. I remember bragging that I had it down pat but when I went to play Palatka Golf Club with colleagues Julie Williams and Jason Lusk, I kept hitting left of left. It reminded me of the old Bugs Bunny skit where the singing frog only lets out a ribbit in front of a crowd. If you don’t know that one, check it out below.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MsROL4Kf8QY
I recorded 75 18-hole scores in 2020, which doesn’t include some hit-n-giggle team events and that many of those rounds combined two evening nines. All told, I’m guessing I’m well over 100 days of golf this year. So, 2020 hasn’t been a total loss. My game is still fragile and for all the effort my handicap has gone down a whopping 0.4 strokes … but it didn’t go up this year, so I’ve got that going for me.
During the lockdown, I dove into the old Rolodex and did a series of Q&A’s (Quarantined and Answered) with some of my favorite talkers: David Duval, Sean Foley, Jim Furyk, Tony Jacklin, Vijay Singh, Charles Barkley, Johnny Miller and Tom Weiskopf. For all the Microsoft Teams and Zoom calls that helped us do our jobs, there’s no replacement for being present at a tournament and personal contact. So, I drove 12-plus hours with a pit stop at Sweetens Cove to cover the WGC St. Jude Invitational in Memphis and a Sunday duel between a resurgent Brooks Koepka and Justin Thomas, who had Jim “Bones” Mackay fill in in on the bag and paired with one Phil Mickelson and brother Tim. Yeah, I missed that.
The importance of simply being there couldn’t have been more evident a few weeks earlier when Camilo Villegas broke into tears at the start of his press conference ahead of the Korn Ferry Challenge at TPC Sawgrass as he detailed that his 18-month old daughter, Mia, was battling cancerous tumors in her brain. A little more than a month later her fight was over. I was in Jackson, Mississippi in October when Villegas sat down with me and opened his heart about dealing with loss and how it was his mission to make something good come from Mia’s death. This time, I was the one holding back tears. To hear him talk about seeing one of Mia’s beloved rainbows on the first tee at the RSM Classic and contend for the title until Sunday was almost too good to be true.
But there was another feel-good story in the fall season that delivered a full payoff. Seeing Stewart Cink end his 11-year victory drought at age 47, and with his son Reagan on the bag, gave me all the feels. I remember speaking to Cink after his wife, Lisa, was diagnosed with breast cancer in 2016, and here she was cancer-free, a one-woman cheering section for her guys at a spectator-free tournament as Stewart showed he could still close on Sundays. Color me inspired and thank you, Stewart, for these words I’m going to try to live by in 2021: “I just try to squeeze every little bit of juice I can out of my golf game, out of that lemon.”
Let’s all make some lemonade in 2021 out of the lemon that was 2020.
