Golf course architect Ron Kirby, whose top-rated efforts included Old Head of Kinsale in Ireland and Apes Hill in Barbados, died Thursday in Copenhagen, Denmark. He was 90 years old when overcome by a quick illness, and he was still working on a golf project.
Kirby worked on hundreds of projects around the world, both as solo jobs and in tandem with some of the biggest names in golf design.
A native of Beverly, Massachusetts, Kirby got into golf as a boy, serving as a caddie, a caddie master and on a grounds crew. He studied agriculture at the University of Massachusetts-Strockbridge before going to work for golf architect Dick Wilson. He later joined the crew for Robert Trent Jones Sr., working on courses in the U.S., Europe and the Caribbean.
Kirby – a member of the America Society of Golf Course Architects – started his own firm in 1970 with consulting partner Gary Player. Kirby sold that firm to Golden Bear Inc. and joined Nicklaus Design Services, working for Jack Nicklaus as overseer of European projects.
The ASGCA wrote that throughout Kirby’s career, he was accompanied on projects by his wife, Sally, who died in 2021. Their travels set the tone for Kirby’s autobiography, “We Spent Half Our Lives on the Wrong Side of the Road.” Kirby is survived by children Faye, Ron Jr. and Beverly.
Golf course architect Ron Kirby (Courtesy of the American Society of Golf Course Architects)
“Ron Kirby was one of a kind, or perhaps I should Ron and Sally Kirby were two of a kind,” ASGCA president Brit Stenson said on the organization’s website. “His positive impact on golf course architecture in countries around the world will serve as a professional legacy, but it was Ron’s enduring relationship with Sally that many of us will long remember.”
Kirby’s last completed designs were a full makeover of Apes Hill that debuted last year, plus a nine-hole par-3 course at Apes Hill.
“He was an incredible man, always with a smile and a twinkle in his eyes who had an abundance of rich friendships from the dozen plus countries he worked in globally,” Roddy Carr, a famous Irish golfer who was instrumental in Kirby being selected to design Old Head Golf Links in Ireland and Apes Hill Barbados, said in a media release announcing Kirby’s death. “Ron lived a rich and full life and did what he loved doing right to the end – recently sketching golf holes in Denmark.”
John Bland won multiple titles in South Africa and on what is now the DP World Tour.
South African golfer John Bland, who won twice on the DP World Tour before coming to prominence in the U.S. on PGA Tour Champions, has died. He was 77.
Bland’s death was announced by the Sunshine Tour, of which he claimed the circuit’s Order of Merit title four times and he ranked fifth in career wins with 21. He died Tuesday at a hospital in George, South Africa “after a battle with cancer,” the Sunshine Tour said.
Born Sept. 22, 1945, in Johannesburg, Bland turned pro in 1969 and won his first of 36 titles at the 1970 Transvaal Open. He won the South African PGA Championship in 1977 over Gary Player, one of three victories that year and a total he matched again in 1983 when he claimed the European Tour’s Benson and Hedges International over Bernhard Langer.
Beloved South African professional golfer John Bland, who won 36 titles in a celebrated career, passed away shortly after 6am on Tuesday 9 May 2023.
Bland (77) passed away in a hospital in George after a battle with cancer, with his family and his bulldog Handsome by his side.… pic.twitter.com/4tZic37Gu5
In a professional career that spanned more than 40 years, he didn’t compete in the U.S. until turning 50 but quickly proved his mettle with five senior titles and more than $7 million in earnings. He won in his second start as a Monday Qualifier, earning exempt status for a year and went on to be named Senior PGA Tour Rookie of the Year in 1996 after winning four times and finishing third on the money list. Some of his best duels were with Jim Colbert, who finished second to Bland in four of his five victories on the circuit. Bland also won three times on the European Senior Tour.
“It’s so hard to post the utterly devastating news that John Bland, my traveling companion of so many years and mentor has passed away,” fellow South African golfer Tony Johnstone tweeted. “He was so much more than a friend and words don’t express the true meaning of ‘brother’.”
Bland is survived by his wife, Sonja, three children – John-Mark, Bonney and Candice – and three grandchildren. He died with family and bulldog Handsome by his side.
The Sunshine Tour said Bland was “one of the most loved and respected South African sportsmen.”
January notably won the first-ever PGA Tour Champions event in 1980.
Don January, winner of the 1967 PGA Championship and a two-time member of the U.S. Ryder Cup team, died Sunday at age 93, according to the PGA Tour.
January won 10 times on the PGA Tour. In 1976, he won the Vardon Trophy for low scoring average at the age of 46.
Born in Plainview, Texas, on Nov. 20, 1929, he led the North Texas State golf team to four straight NCAA titles. Given the nickname “Bones,” January won his 1963 PGA in an 18-hole playoff at Columbine Country Club in Denver.
He made 526 starts on the PGA Tour and once he turned 50, he made another 333 starts on the PGA Tour Champions, winning 22 times on the senior circuit.
He banked $3,220,478 on the Champions tour, earning three times what he did on the PGA Tour. January notably won the first-ever Champions event, the 1980 Atlantic City Senior International.
Broeck famously played and caddied in the same PGA Tour event.
“Last Call” Lance Ten Broeck, who famously played and caddied in the same PGA Tour event, died Sunday at St. Mary’s Hospital in West Palm Beach. He was 67.
Ten Broeck grew up on the south side of Chicago, part of a family of golfers, and played collegiately at Texas. He qualified for the U.S. Open seven times and held the 36-hole lead in the 2012 U.S. Senior Open, but was the quintessential journeyman golfer, playing at least 14 tournaments in 12 seasons, making 355 career starts on the Tour, recording 11 top-10 finishes without ever claiming an official win.
“I probably didn’t have enough confidence, but it’s hard to have confidence when you’re not playing well,” Ten Broeck once told The Caddie Network. “And when I played badly, I didn’t want to play.”
In 1999, with his playing status all but gone, Jesper Parnevik asked him to caddie for him. They won together that first week at the Wyndham Championship and Ten Broeck had a new profession. In addition to caddying for four of Parnevik’s victories, he also worked for the likes of Ernie Els, Tim Herron and Richard S. Johnson.
RIP Lance Ten Broeck. One of the great characters I have known my entire time caddying . Taken way too early . Last Call will have that bar upstairs rocking . pic.twitter.com/JAIIG87H8N
Along the way, he made a habit of committing to events where he caddied just in case several players dropped out and depleted the alternates list. At the 2009 Valero Texas Open, that’s exactly what happened. Ten Broeck didn’t know yet of his impending tee time and the night before he enjoyed eight happy-hour special orders of a 22-ounce beer and a jug of sake for $6.50. Parnevik teed off at 7:25 a.m. and when the round ended Ten Broeck, 53 at the time, was informed he had an afternoon tee time.
“I didn’t have any clubs or even any pants. I had to be taken to the mall to buy pants.” said Ten Broeck, who still managed to shoot a respectable 71.
He followed it up by shooting 70 to beat his boss by two strokes but they both missed the cut. Ten Broeck, who was tall enough that he didn’t need a stool for kitchen cabinets, borrowed clubs from the 5-foot-7 Johnson and later complained the clubs were too short, the irons too stiff. (Read all about it in this ‘Hate to be Rude’ column here.)
We lost a great friend of the game of golf yesterday, Lance Ten Broeck.
Lance spent his whole life around our great game as a player, a caddy, and a coach, for that matter.
He repeated the feat the following year near Cancun, finishing his loop 12 minutes before his tee time. There was no time to eat lunch let alone warm up or even hit a practice putt. He played in sneakers.
“It was more fun the last time,” Ten Broeck said afterwards. “I played crummy. I didn’t even make a birdie.”
When asked later that year if he was interested in seeing if the third time would be the charm in New Orleans, where players were dropping like flies from the field, he said, “No, man. The thrill is gone.”
Lance Ten Broeck held the 36-hole lead at the 2012 U.S. Senior Open before finishing T-9.
An all-time nickname
Ten Broeck earned one of the great nicknames in golf for his tendency to close the bar. He once recounted the story of how former caddie Jeff “Boo” Burrell stamped him with the nickname when Ten Broeck was playing in the 1980 Pensacola Open.
“Jeff used to make football bets with me and I would phone them in to the bookie,” Ten Broeck told Craig Dolch for a Caddie Network story. “He came into my hotel room Sunday morning and there was a guy sleeping on the floor in a bartender uniform. Jeff said, ‘Who the heck is that?’
“I had gone to Rosie O’Grady’s the night before and I needed a ride home. I had to stick around for last call for the bartender to give me a ride home. So Jeff started calling me ‘Last Call Lance.’”
As Golf Channel’s Rich Lerner noted in his tweet, “he loved a good hang as much as his golf.”
Lance Ten Broeck, longtime pro and later a caddie, passed at 67. Known as “Last Call Lance,” he was a likable character who loved a good hang as much as he loved golf. RIP.
Ten Broeck won one event, the 1984 Magnolia Classic, but it was an unofficial opposite-field event played the same week as the Masters. Ten Broeck played sparingly on PGA Tour Champions, beginning in 2005. He threatened to win the biggest senior title in golf at the 2012 U.S. Senior Open, grabbing the 36-hole lead but couldn’t keep up his pace over the weekend and finished T-9.
The PGA Tour star built a second career as a course designer, with many of his layouts ranking high in Golfweek’s Best course rankings.
Tom Weiskopf, who died Saturday at age 79 after a battle with pancreatic cancer, accomplished much more in golf than just his 16 PGA Tour titles, including the 1973 British Open.
Weiskopf was an accomplished course designer with dozens of layouts around the world, many of which place highly in various Golfweek’s Best course rankings. Following is a list of his top 15 courses, as judged by Golfweek’s panel of more than 850 raters.
Our course-ratings panel members continually evaluate courses and rate them based on 10 criteria on a points basis of 1 through 10. Members also file a single, overall rating on each course. Those overall ratings are averaged to produce these rankings. The list below includes each course’s average rating.
The various Golfweek’s Best rankings (top 200 modern, top modern international, top private and public courses in each state, et cetera) have different requirements for numbers of ballots necessary to appear on each list. This list of Weiskopf’s courses ignores all those various ballot requirements to simply create one lineup of the designer’s best courses, regardless of number of votes, which could lead to slight variations in this versus other Golfweek’s Best lists.
Who calls a total stranger on Christmas to do a lengthy phone interview? Vin Scully, that’s who!
Vin Scully called me on Christmas.
Sure, I had sent him an email interview request hours earlier on Christmas Eve, but it never crossed my mind that he would phone me during the biggest day of the NBA season.
Hearing the sad news that Scully died Tuesday at age 94 made me think back (and dig up our interview transcript) to an occasion that to me said so much about the person he was. Scully may have been synonymous with baseball and the Los Angeles Dodgers, but he broadcast professional golf, too, first for CBS – including the Masters eight times from 1975-1982 – and then with NBC from 1983-1989, where he partnered in the 18th-hole tower with Lee Trevino.
As much as I would have loved to listen to him speak for hours on baseball, it was his time in golf that I was asking him to reminisce about. I had forgotten about this until I did an email search, but the person who shared with me Scully’s contact information (and shall remain nameless) gave it to me on Aug. 13, or more than four months before Christmas. No phone number but an email address – I guess at this point I’m not revealing too much by saying his email started red@ – and a fax number. Who still had a fax? Apparently, Vin did! I never faxed him but now that I think of it, I wish I had just to say I did.
This was some quality procrastination from mid-August to late December, even for me, but sounds about right – have a direct line to the man, the myth, the legend Vin Scully and wait until most of the Catholic world was at a midnight mass service to bother writing him for an interview.
Players and fans stand for a moment of silence for the passing of Vin Scully before the Houston Astros played the Boston Red Sox at Minute Maid Park in Houston on August 3. (Thomas Shea-USA TODAY Sports)
Santa could not have given me a better gift than a call from Vin had jolly Saint Nick landed his sleigh on the roof of my downtown Orlando condo and dumped out a bag of toys. The year was 2013, and while the specifics are a bit vague, I think I had seen a movie earlier that day and was watching the NBA in the late afternoon before dinner with my parents when I answered the phone and heard his unmistakable voice.
I may have procrastinated on writing him, but I had prepped several questions and I scrambled to pull them up on my laptop and fumbled to find my digital recorder. Again, who calls a total stranger on Christmas and sits for a lengthy phone interview? Vin Scully, that’s who!
I’m not going to post the full transcript of the interview, but here are a few things he said about Trevino, a partner he considered a true friend, that stuck out:
“Most people think of Lee Trevino they think of a talkative, outgoing, happy-go-lucky type of guy. He’s like so many people, he’s misunderstood,” Scully said. “He’s an intelligent, sensitive human being. Very bright. We’d sit on the tower and talk about the world events. He had a delightful laugh that everybody loved, but he’s far more than that delightful jokester.
“I marveled at a few things about him. Lee told me one time that he never had a cavity. As someone who has what I call Irish teeth, he had beautiful teeth,” Scully continued. “His eyesight was remarkable. I don’t know what it would be if he read the charts but we would in the tower on a par 5, so it’s a long hole, and then we would be 20 yards away from the green, and he would watch somebody hit off the tee and he’d say he blocked the shot. He had the eyesight of Chuck Yeager. It was incredible.”
“Once in a while I had the pleasure of playing with him,” he told me. “I never asked him anything. At my best, I was a 12 handicap. I’m left-handed. So occasionally we’d be on the range and we’d be facing each other and I’d just marvel at him. He might say something like, ‘Vinny, you’re choking the club to death. Relax.’ Then I’d start hitting a few balls very well and he’d say, ‘OK, let’s go.’ We’d walk 100 yards to the tee and I’d go right back to being what I am, which is hopeless. It was a great privilege to watch him shape shots. Remarkable.”
I asked him to describe how Trevino prepped for a broadcast, and his response was telling about how he went about doing his job and what made him so great. “Technically, in any sport, I always assumed I was the reporter answering the question who, what, where and when but the how – that key word – that belonged to the analyst. I would talk about score, where they are today, the shot, the club, the distance and then get out of the way to allow Lee to give the analysis. I would sit at his feet almost like a child and listen to his explanation of why these things occurred.”
I could go on but this final anecdote he shared is arguably my favorite, because it combined golf and baseball and two athletes that captured the attention of the sporting public.
“There was a wonderful golf writer in England named Bernard Darwin,” Scully began. “He talked about a player that was out of sight in a tournament and then won. He referred to the fact that the golfer had come from the back of beyond. I thought that was such a remarkable phrasing. I used it with Fernando Valenzuela, the Mexican left-hander, who really came from the back of beyond to become more than a hero. I felt that Lee was the same. He came from the back of beyond. He came from hitting golf balls with branches in the cemetery.”
At this point we had talked for 25 minutes and I had exhausted my questions and he had told one gem of a story after another. However, I didn’t really want to hang up. I had the great Vin on the line and I didn’t want this moment to end. I had a pretty good idea that this was going to be a one-and-done for me. But before I could start vamping, he said, “I hope that helps a little bit, Adam. I’ve got family here and I did want to do it before I got overwhelmed.”
I suddenly felt like the worst person in the world. It’s Christmas Day, Vin’s family is over and I’m keeping him from having a glass of eggnog with his wife and kids to do the most-non-deadline of non-deadline interviews you can imagine.
I wished him happy holidays, and that was the extent of my dealings with him, but it left a lasting impression that someone as famous as he would drop everything – even on Christmas Day – to do an interview for a sport he hadn’t covered in over 20 years.
To me, it spoke to Scully’s character and was just a small reason he was such a beloved figure in sports. I loved listening to him call a game before, but after our Christmas Day interview he had secured a permanent space in the upper tier of my sports broadcasting firmament. Vin Scully was pure class in my book, and I can’t help but think of him every year on Christmas Day.
Check out 10 photos of the the Celtics legend who played in many celebrity charity golf events.
Bill Russell, the legendary NBA star who died Sunday at age 88, loved to play golf and to meet other celebrity golfers – including games with Michael Jordan. He was a frequent participant in charity golf events and various pro-ams, including the AT&T Pebble Beach Pro-Am in California.
Russell’s death was announced on his Twitter account, saying he “passed away peacefully today at age 88, with his wife, Jeannine, by his side.” He was the star of the Boston Celtics dynasty in the 1950s and ’60s, and he later became a voice of social justice as well as taking up golf.
At an agile 6-foot-9, the Hall-of-Famer was a late-comer to golf. Russell told Golf Channel in 2014 that he received a set of golf clubs as a gift at an NBA All-Star Game but didn’t break them out of his garage for years. They sat for so long, the natural left-hander didn’t even realize the gifted clubs were righties.
Check out these photos of Russell on the course and around the game of golf.
Community expresses shock after the death of the man at Arrowhead Golf Course.
A man in Naples, Florida, died while attempting to retrieve golf balls from a pond. The father who enjoyed spending time with his three children and collected submerged golf balls with his son is remembered as a dedicated first responder, a loving dad and a respected businessman.
Nicholas Wardein, 44, was at the sixth green of Arrowhead Golf Course with his 13-year-old son when he failed to return to surface.
The incident happened shortly after 1 p.m. Friday, Michelle Batten, spokesperson for the Collier County Sheriff’s Office told the Daily News.
According to an incident report provided by the sheriff’s office, Wardein’s son told deputies he and his father were allowed to scuba dive in the lakes of Arrowhead to retrieve golf balls.
The area has two ponds that separate the golf course from several buildings.
Based on the incident report, the sheriff’s office couldn’t confirm whether other people were in the area besides his son. The area encompasses several smaller golf courses.
A spokesperson for the golf course declined comment Wednesday morning, citing that he wasn’t present when the drowning happened and was later informed by his supervisors.
Wardein’s son added they’ve done so many times.
According to the teenager’s statement, Wardein entered the water wearing a wetsuit, weighted belt, dive mask, boot knife, scuba tank and a net to carry the golf balls.
Moments later, he noticed his father was struggling to stay afloat and gasping for air. Wardein took off his scuba tank but struggled to remain on the surface, possibly due to the weight of the golf balls attached to his weighted belt, his son told deputies.
The boy then entered the water in an attempt to aid the first responder, but when he approached his father’s last-known location, he couldn’t find him, according to the report.
The adolescent then exited the water and called for help.
By the time first responders arrived, Wardein had been beneath the surface for about 10 minutes, according to the incident report.
Nearly 15 minutes after first responders entered the water, divers with the fire department located Wardein approximately 5 yards off his last reported location.
Wardein was pronounced dead at the scene.
A GoFundMe fundraiser aims to collect $100,000 for Wardein’s memorial fund, which organizers say would then be distributed among his three children. As of 10 a.m. Wednesday, the family raised over $41,000.
He is survived by his wife, Ruth Wardein, and three children — Liora, Xavier and Clara.
Wardein had worked for the Lee County Emergency Medical Services since 2014 and was “a committed provider who was loved and respected by his coworkers,” the county said in a statement.
“Lee County Public Safety is saddened that EMT Nicholas Wardein died unexpectedly Friday while pursuing his hobby during his off-duty hours,” the email read in part.
His family owns Epiphany Gluten Free Bakery in the 1500 block of Immokalee Road.
Managers at neighboring businesses Turco Taco and McAlister’s Deli expressed shock over his sudden loss.
Mayra Ruiz, one of the managers at the adjacent McAlister’s Deli, said she didn’t really know Wardein, but added she often sees his wife when she picks up the mail.
Two doors from McAlister’s Deli, Ednald Angenor, kitchen manager at Turco Taco, said he was startled when he found out Wardein died.
Angenor said he also often crossed paths with his wife.
“I was shocked … I was shocked,” Angenor said, stuttering, as he tried to find the words to describe the loss of Wardein. “A few days ago I saw his car outside, you know, just coming over there … A few days later I was talking to one of the employees there and they said he was dead … It was shocking news … I couldn’t believe it.”
Angenor said he knows what it’s like to lose someone near and dear.
“Hopefully she has the courage to move on,” Angenor said. “As a community, we’re here for the family if they need anything.”
The Daily News and The News-Press reached out to Wardein’s family, but didn’t receive a response before publication.
Tomas Rodriguez is a Breaking/Live News Reporter for the Naples Daily News and The News-Press. You can reach Tomas at TRodriguez@gannett.com or 772-333-5501. Follow him on Twitter@TomasFRoBeltran.
Golfweek’s longtime equipment reporter, James Achenbach, is remembered as a lover of the game and a thoughtful, caring person.
Folding my 6-foot, 4-inch frame into the passenger seat of James Achenbach’s tiny purple Pontiac Solstice convertible was almost impossible, as was reading the GPS screen after it flew off the dashboard and rolled under my feet as he made a sharp turn off International Drive in Orlando. After a few minutes in the car with the godfather of golf equipment writers, I was ready to hide under the seat, too.
We got to Orange County National Golf Center & Lodge safely that morning for the 2014 PGA Merchandise Show’s Demo Day, and we made it back safely that night after Jim and I walked around the massive circular driving range. Since 1975 Jim had been a Golfweek columnist – and for many of those decades he was the magazine’s equipment editor – and at every booth, all of them, people came out to shake Jim’s hand, chat and show off something new. He was available for all of them, speaking slowly and carefully, but enthusiastically.
Before in-hand photographs of the pros’ golf clubs and Sunday night “What’s in the bag” columns became standard fare for equipment reports, Achenbach developed a platinum-level Rolodex that included the direct phone numbers to CEOs, designers, salespersons, marketing managers and every key person in the golf equipment industry. He also had longstanding relationships with key people at the USGA and Augusta National Golf Club, and he was a fixture at major events for decades.
When I joined Golfweek in 2013 to write about gear, I was nervous that Jim might feel angry that someone else was coming in and working his beat, but he put that notion out of my head quickly with a phone call during my first week on the job. He was welcoming, said that he’d admired my work for years and was excited that I had joined the staff.
I can’t say that we worked perfectly together because, like so many other people, I rarely knew where he was and only had an inkling of what he was going to write any given week. Editorial calendars and planning meetings were more like suggestions for Jim.
Jim Achenbach in 2013 (David Dusek/Golfweek)
What I came to learn was Achenbach was passionate about equipment and the people who designed it. He was not just an insider, he was the voice of weekend warriors who dreamed of hitting a draw off the tee. He was fluent in technical terms but always translated them into simple ideas for golfers who chronically three-putted. And, most of all, he had a soft spot for shafts and helped readers understand the mystic arts of graphite and steel.
When I called, texted and emailed people over the weekend to let them know that Jim had died, the reactions were a mixture of sadness and appreciation for hard work, friendship and kindness. Below are a few notes Golfweek received.
From John A. Solheim, chairman and CEO of Ping Golf:
“I’m deeply saddened at Jim’s passing. He was a great friend to myself and my wife, Sunny. Jim and I had a standing meeting every year at the Masters that I cherished. He loved talking all things golf. He was a great listener and very inquisitive. We spoke frequently during his amazing career, mostly about equipment as he was very interested in understanding how and why things worked or didn’t work. He was very curious and challenged the status quo to bring his readers stories that mattered to their games. He loved tinkering with his own equipment, whether trying longer shafts, different grips, or changing lofts. He embodied the term ‘gearhead’ before it was made popular.
Of course, Jim’s golf writing skills weren’t limited to reporting on equipment. He was extremely versatile. He’s covered the greats of the sport and all the big events, but he also always had time to file a story about the state or local event that gave those golfers the exposure they deserved. Those were some of his best stories, as they always had a human-interest element to them that embodied the spirit of the game.
I’ll remember Jim for his friendship, passion, fairness and love of the game.”
From Chip Brewer, president and CEO of Callaway Golf:
“I’m truly sorry to hear of Jim’s passing. I met Jim during my early days with Adams (Golf), probably around 1999, and stayed close to him after moving to Callaway up until his retirement. I always enjoyed being around him and was always impressed by his work. He was a true professional writer and a straight shooter — but also always had a smile on his face. Other than family, I don’t think he loved anything more than either writing about or playing golf. He will be missed; and, sadly, another of our legends of old-school golf writing is no longer with us. Time moves on, but I’m saddened by this loss and will toast him among friends when I next have that chance.
My condolences to his family and friends. He was a wonderful man.”
From Dave Schnider, president and COO of shaft maker Fujikura:
“Jim Achenbach was a very unique and gifted writer. In my younger years in the golf business, I constantly asked Golfweek why Jim wouldn’t write stories about Fujikura. We would send him our press releases and marketing materials but he never seemed interested in covering our products for a story. But when I personally took the time and got to know Jim, things changed and I realized Jim was a golf equipment junkie like myself. He was so passionate about improving his game with the new and latest equipment, and this sparked my passion each time we talked. He had an amazing knack for asking questions and turning my answers into brilliant storytelling. He was a great ambassador for the game of golf and will be sorely missed.”
From Mark Gunther, vice president of sales and marketing of shaft maker Mitsubishi Chemical America:
“Really, was there ever anyone with a quicker wit than Jim? He was so sharp. I always respected and admired his professionalism as well. When we started our office in 2004-05, he treated me like I was [as big as] Callaway. That’s how he made us feel. It was a gift.”
James Achenbach was one of a kind, writing about the people of golf with unmatched passion and enthusiasm.
James Achenbach – a wily, funny and infuriatingly clever golf writer who worked full-time for Golfweek for 24 years – passed away Friday, April 15. He was 78. His daughter, Omalley Ehren Abel, posted about his death on Facebook.
Achenbach’s initial forays into the pages of Golfweek began in the 1970s and grew into a full-time gig in 1991 after various stints at newspapers around the country, and he became a popular senior voice in golf writing. He attended more than 40 consecutive Masters, earning a personal parking spot at Augusta National Golf Club in 2010 along with the club’s Masters Major Achievement Award. He interviewed all the greats of the game, including Jack Nicklaus, Tiger Woods, Byron Nelson and many others. His breadth of knowledge was extensive, his enthusiasm catching.
In a career that started with persimmon-headed drivers and concluded after the introduction of hot-faced titanium rocket launchers, Achenbach put an emphasis on the people of golf. He had a particular affinity for amateur golfers and the many PGA of America professionals who promoted the game. He could hobnob with USGA or R&A executives just as easily as he would listen to the preachings of a local club fitter at a small, independently owned retail golf store. He was always happy to talk golf.
Tour pros were a source of amazement for Achenbach when it came to how they could swing a club, but they did not always receive such love when they strayed into controversial topics. For example, he once assailed Arnold Palmer’s support of non-conforming equipment that threatened to bifurcate the game. He feared the wrath of no one, be it Tour official or advertiser.
Family, his and others, was always special. Private about so much of his own life, his outward passion for people was contagious. Former Golfweek editor Jeff Babineau, on hearing of Achenbach’s passing, said they first met in Sarasota, Florida, while covering the old Bent Tree Classic. Achenbach had written a story about Nancy Lopez and her dad, Domingo, that Babineau says to this day is one of the most beautiful pieces he has ever read. Emphasis on ever, from an editor who has read many of the greats.
“There was no one who ever covered this game more passionate about golf and more passionate about relaying his love of the game to readers,” Babineau said. “He took it personally. Writing wasn’t work to James. It was a calling.”
James Achenbach is presented the Masters Major Achievement Award by Augusta National chairman Billy Payne for his contributions to golf writing at the 2010 Golf Writers Association of America dinner in Augusta, Georgia. (Golfweek files)
He earned multiple awards from the Golf Writers Association of America, and in his quirky way that was all Achenbach, he made his acceptance speech an ode to the copy editor. That seems fitting, as he didn’t like to speak too much about himself, often beginning personal stories with a large sigh to express his frustration and fear of boring a listener about himself. He worked at the Sarasota Tribune, covering Florida State football and Bobby Bowden at one point, and the Mesa Tribune in Arizona – there surely were other beats and newspaper gigs that he never brought up. He owned residences in Orlando, the California desert and Oregon, but his bosses never seemed to know exactly where he was – for writers of his era, that kind of freedom was a gift.
His laugh was like nobody’s, a deep three-part cadence that rose in volume: “Ha. Haaa. HAAAA!” If you heard that laugh down the hall, you couldn’t help but investigate.
I had the greatest pleasure to be his editor on the equipment beat at Golfweek for 10 years until his retirement in 2015, and never have I seen a person so in love with his job. Covering a U.S. Open or writing about hosel length and lead tape, keeping secrets about his whereabouts and scouring the entire world of golf for his next “big, big important story,” Achenbach would vigorously chase any idea deep into a rabbit hole of research and personal testing. No topic was too big, no subject too esoteric.
Achenbach was opinionated and incredibly informed. He earned both through years of banging away on various keyboards, first a manual typewriter and later a laptop. He once grew so exasperated at me for not running one of his stories in print that he wouldn’t pick up the phone for a week – it basically was a story about a stick that could be massaged into sore muscles to make a golfer feel better, but the science behind the premise was dodgy at best. A week after I held the story, he showed up in our Orlando newsroom unannounced, saying he flew all the way from his home in California to apologize for his anger in person. Because Golfweek used to run all the scores from just about every tournament that halfway mattered, I knew he actually was in Florida to play a senior golf event, but that kind of juggling was part of his charm. He was one of a kind, and now I wish I had run that damn story about the stick.
In dealing with personal affairs, Achenbach was a softy of the highest order. He wept when I told him of my wife’s leukemia diagnosis in 2013. I last saw him about four years ago, both of us happy to cross paths at the annual PGA Merchandise Show, and he started the conversation with questions about her treatment and well-being. He frequently checked in on co-workers and friends in such a kind manner, quick with encouragement and congratulations when appropriate. I wish I could tell him of my wife’s remission – he would be beaming.
He was rumored to be an ace at free throw shooting on a basketball court, and he was a single-digit-handicap golfer who couldn’t get enough, playing anywhere with just about anyone, an ever-present and sometimes decaying Yankees cap screwed tight upon his head. He loved golf clubs – absolutely adored them – and would always seem to have some new driver or shaft in his carry bag, a wedge from a small manufacturer, or a putter that promised much even if it never delivered. After his retirement, he loved to compete and write about The Society of Seniors golf organization, still contributing pieces to various publications and websites.
His first piece for a then-fledgling Golfweek – published on May 22, 1975 – introduced his love of amateur golf. His topic was Dorsey Luke’s charge to victory at the DeSoto National Amateur Handicap Golf Championship in Bradenton, Florida.
James Achenbach signed off with a retirement column that ran in Golfweek’s print magazine on August 31, 2015.
His retirement column focused largely on his greatest frustration with the game: slow play. His final words after 40 years spent in Golfweek’s pages focused on the problem, as he simply despised wasting time on a course. Published on August 31, 2015, and titled “Retiring from Golfweek, not from life,” that column is posted below:
By James Achenbach
I find it amusing that hack is a word equally suitable for bad golf or bad journalism. At times, I have been guilty of each.
However, as I retire and ride into the sunset – with Decisions on the Rules of Golf in my saddlebag – I will not be guilty of talking endlessly about my career. Too indulgent for my tastes.
After four decades involved with Golfweek, it is more important to me to recognize the role of club professionals in boosting golf and promoting fast play. The men and women who choose golf as a profession must be teachers, philosophers, arbiters, confidants and storytellers. They must have sharp minds and accurate memories. Ever try to remember the name of every person you meet? Welcome to the PGA of America.
Ken Morton Sr., a member of the PGA Hall of Fame, runs the 36-hole Haggin Oaks golf facility for the city of Sacramento (Calif.). In 1958, when he was 18, he took his first job at Haggin Oaks. Now, 57 years later, he is a legend.
The entire golf-oriented Morton family, through the Morton Golf Foundation, has raised hundreds of thousands of dollars for local charities. A scholarship program has helped send hundreds of underprivileged young golfers to college.
Another veteran club professional, Tommy Moore of Palmetto Golf Club in Aiken, S.C., is a prominent example of how one person can make a huge difference.
In the 1930s and 1940s, many famous golfers adopted a ritual of practicing at Palmetto before traveling a short distance to compete in the Masters. Eventually, Palmetto fell on hard times financially, and that’s when Moore came to the rescue. Thanks to his persistence, the historic club is recognized today not only as one of America’s great 19th-century (1892) golf treasures but also as a distinguished supporter of amateur golf competition.
Slow play is one of golf’s biggest enemies, but two club pros in the western United States deserve mention for leading the campaign to rid it from golf as if it were a malignant weed.
Dick Hyland, head professional at The Country Club at DC Ranch in Scottsdale, Ariz., has won the Ed Updegraff Award for exemplifying the spirit of golf in Arizona. He also was named 2014 Golf Professional of the Year by the Southwest Section of the PGA of America.
To Hyland, fast golf is a way of life. He likes to play an 18-hole round each week with a different member. As a twosome, they ride. No, they fly.
“We are the first group out,” Hyland said, “and we finish anywhere between one hour and 40 minutes and two hours. We never take more than two hours.”
Golf professional J.D. Ebersberger, co-founder of The Palms Golf Club in La Quinta, Calif., quickly established three hours and 15 minutes as a target time for completing 18 holes.
A big reason for Ebersberger’s 3:15 vision is the course layout. Ebersberger, a member of the Hall of Fame of the Southern California PGA Section, hired architect Brian Curley to create an innovative old-timey design in which greens and tees are close together.
Groups missing the 3:15 mark usually finish within 3:30. The 4-hour round of golf virtually is extinct at The Palms.
Top 10 tips from Hyland and Ebersberger:
Give golf professionals the clear authority to approach and advise plodding groups; Hyland’s first words to any slow group: “What can I do to help you?”
Forget honors entirely; play ready golf at all times.
Concentrate on determining your yardage before it is your turn to hit.
Try this guideline: From the time you pick up your coin, you have 15 seconds in which to hit a putt.
Another guideline: In the age of plastic spikes, experiment with rounds in which continuous putting is mandatory.
The first golfer to hole out should hold the flagstick and replace it.
Never park a golf cart on the front side of the green; park it as close as possible to the point of exit from the green.
After hitting a shot, keep your club in your hand. Replace it in the bag only after the cart has stopped at its next position.
In the age of distance-measuring devices, try this on par-3 holes: Spray paint the exact yardage to the flagstick from various tee locations.
Courses might keep and even post a time sheet, noting start time, turn time and finish time for all groups. “We’re not trying to embarrass anybody,” Ebersberger said. “We’re just trying to make everybody aware of the time involved.”
Now, without a writing job for the first time in decades, what can I do to express myself? Wrestling with slow play would be a worthy cause: writing in depth about fast play and ready golf, organizing qualified speakers, creating leadership awards for speedy players.
Playing quickly should be every golfer’s mandate. We can retire from our jobs, but we can’t retire from the havoc created by slow play. Gwk
