James Achenbach, longtime Golfweek columnist and Masters Major Achievement Award winner, dies at 78

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.”

Achenbach
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.

Achenbach's farewell column 2015
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:

  1. 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?”
  2. Forget honors entirely; play ready golf at all times.
  3. Concentrate on determining your yardage before it is your turn to hit.
  4. Try this guideline: From the time you pick up your coin, you have 15 seconds in which to hit a putt.
  5. Another guideline: In the age of plastic spikes, experiment with rounds in which continuous putting is mandatory.
  6. The first golfer to hole out should hold the flagstick and replace it.
  7. 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.
  8. 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.
  9. 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.
  10. 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

Obit: Ex-PGA Tour, Champions Tour player Marion Heck dies at 81

Heck died Saturday at the age of 81, following a career that included 56 events on the PGA Tour, and 69 more on the PGA Tour Champions.

Marion Heck’s last name was simply fitting.

He was a heck of a guy. And a heck of a golfer to those who knew him.

The Fort Myers Beach, Florida, resident died Saturday at the age of 81, following a varied career that included 56 events on the PGA Tour, 69 more on the PGA Tour Champions, and so many others.

Former tour player Nolan Henke of Fort Myers was part of a group text of golfers exchanging messages about Heck after learning of his passing.

“All of these conversations were either beginning or ending with ‘He was such a great guy,'” Henke said. “It’s somebody that you want to model your life after.”

“He was the consummate professional, and obviously a great player, but just a good guy overall,” said Fort Myers’ George McNeill, a PGA Tour player.

“He was a wonderful person who was very humble and he was a winner,” City of Fort Myers director of golf Rich Lamb said.

Heck moved to Southwest Florida in 1959 and was a constant at almost anything involving golf. He played in a handful of PGA Tour events as an amateur from 1962-67, and then as a pro from 1971-77. He gave up professional golf after that, later telling the Chicago Tribune it was due to “lack of talent.”

Marion Heck, who played in 125 events combined on the PGA Tour and PGA Tour Champions, died at the age of 81.

Heck taught golf for five years and later gave professional golf another shot, qualifying for the PGA Tour Champions (then the Senior Tour) in 1990. He had two top-10s and eight top-25s in his Senior Tour career.

Heck wasn’t just a tour player. He was active throughout the state. He won the South Florida PGA Senior Section Championship in 1991 and 1992, and he won the Florida Senior Open Championship at The Naples Beach Hotel & Golf Club, where he played out of, in 1993, 1996 and 1997.

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“He was just one of those guys you wanted to be around,” South Florida PGA Section executive director Geoff Lofstead said. “He just was a fun guy. Every time you saw him, he was in a good mood, and he was obviously a great player. More than anything, he was a great person to be around.

“He loved to play the game, and he played it at such a high level for so long.”

In the 2002 Yuengling Open, which has had many sponsor names over the years like Beck’s and Coors Light, Lamb paired Heck with three of his amateur buddies from the Tampa area. “The three guys from Tampa approached me after the round, they seemed disgruntled about their pro,” Lamb said. “They were rattling my chain.”

Heck, who was 62, had nearly shot his age, firing a 64. He also shot a 72 and at age 72 in the 50th annual tournament in 2012.

Heck won the Yuengling Open in 1966-67, becoming the second — and still the last — to win it back-to-back. Heck won the event again in 1969, 1975 and 20 years later in 1995.

Henke remembered another Yuengling Open story. They were playing Fort Myers Country Club, before it was renovated several years ago, and arrived to No. 7, a par 3.

“Marion, how many hole-in-ones do you have?” one of their playing partners asked.

Heck thought about it for a moment.

“I have seven,” he said. “On this hole.”

When McNeill won the Yuengling Open for the first time in 2002, he was playing with Heck, who also was in contention. Heck’s nickname for McNeill was “Fly.”

“Fly, if I can’t win it, I want you to win it, so play good,” Heck told him.

“He couldn’t have been more encouraging,” McNeill said. “He was the first one to say ‘Congrats.'”

Make no mistake, Heck was gracious and kind. But he could play.

Lamb was new to town in 1977 and ended up facing Heck in the Southwest Chapter PGA Match Play. Lamb shot 37 on the front nine at Palmetto Pines in Cape Coral. And he was 8 down. Heck had shot a 28.

“Marion eventually beat me 9 down with 8 to play,” Lamb said.

When Derek Lamely, an FGCU star who also played on the PGA Tour, first met Heck, they were playing a “game” at Lochmoor Country Club.

“I didn’t know who he was,” Lamely said. “I was a little snot-nosed kid. And he whipped me up and down, back and forth. It was awesome. I mean I didn’t like it at the time, but looking back on it, he was awesome.”

And they were friends for life after that. That happened a lot with Heck, who was the kind of person to look out for the up-and-comers.

“He would always be very encouraging a lot of us younger guys that played with him,” McNeill said. “It’s a competitive game obviously between each person, but he was more than encouraging and tried to help us all out.”

“That man never paid a greens fee in his life,” Henke said, chuckling. “He knew everybody. I’d come home from college and we’d go play. I didn’t have a lot of money. He’d call me and say ‘Hey, we’re going out at Fiddlesticks today.’ He took me under his wing and got me out to play different places. He really helped me in that respect.”

Greg Hardwig is a sports reporter for the Naples Daily News and The News-Press. Follow him on Instagram, Facebook and Twitter: @NDN_Ghardwig, email him at ghardwig@naplesnews.com.

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Lynch: Requiem for a golfer you didn’t know

You most likely didn’t know Graham “Silver” McAleer, who taught Golfweek’s Eamon Lynch all about the game. But you can appreciate him.

Silver died today. You won’t find his given name, Graham McAleer, in a history book next to a catalogue of accomplishments, or engraved underfoot on a plaque at some gilded golf course. But he left a mark on this game, at least in my corner of it.

Growing up in Northern Ireland, I was introduced to golf by Silver, who was so nicknamed for his hair, which had been white for longer than I could recall (he used to insist it was a lustrous dark before he met me). He was the father of one of my closest friends since infancy, Gavin. We first bonded through snooker, a sport particular to the British Isles that was once the seven-days-a-week passion of my teenage years. Until somewhere along the way in high school I discovered golf.

I found a battered old set of mismatched clubs in the shed that had been untouched by my father in years. Silver let me tag along with him to golf courses called Greenore and Ballymascanlon. The latter is punishingly narrow in places, a fact that didn’t trouble Silver. He rarely missed fairways, while even then I rarely hit them. He would offer rudimentary swing tips, then shake his head solemnly as I made an agricultural lash at the ball, invariably followed with analysis that would have stripped skin from a sailor’s ears.

“Oh well, at least your attitude is good,” he’d say, as I beseeched another ball headed toward the woods. I would then dip into his bag and replenish my supply of ammunition for the reload.

Almost every day of my formative years, I would let myself into Silver’s home by the back door, flick on the kettle as I passed it, and assume my position on the couch as an affiliate member of the family. Once, I arrived to find him proudly modeling a beautiful new golf sweater he had purchased.

“Will you make sure I’m buried in this?” he said, turning to me.

“You’re unlikely to need a sweater where you’re going,” I replied. I can still hear his laughter ringing.

“Very good,” he chuckled, before muttering an obscenity under his breath.

The subject of death was a constant source of humor in life for Silver, a trait not uncommon among the Northern Irish who lived through the 30 years of what we euphemistically call the ‘Troubles.’ He knew I wanted to be a writer and long before I made a career of it, more than 30 years ago, he issued a request.

“I want you to write my obituary when the time comes,” he announced one evening.

“But I have nothing nice to say about you.”

“Well, make something up, you (expletive)!”

We enjoyed that identical exchange almost annually over the ensuing decades.

On occasion, work returned me to Ireland as I visited and wrote about golf courses. Silver tagged along, as I had once done with him. We went to the Royals—County Down, Portrush, the lesser-known Belfast—and to Portmarnock, the K Club and Mount Juliet. He loved everything about those experiences.

I sometimes brought him a new driver or putter, but more often I would present myself bearing a box of golf balls. He’d always gleefully accept them with a joke about how I was slowly replacing those many balls I had lost from his bag. I think we both understood, but didn’t say, that the balls were repayment of sorts, but for something much more than the errant shots of my youth. In the way of such debts, the account was never fully settled.

Even now, I struggle to remember a single score from our many rounds, even those rare times when there were fewer strokes to tally. With the passage of years I realized that score had scant bearing on the day for Silver, that it was about company, about exercise, about taking simple pleasure in the act of hitting a ball, no matter how often one had to do it. He never lost sight of that sentiment. I did, often. His son Gavin told me that even in his final days Silver was still cracking jokes about my short fuse on the golf course.

I don’t recall when we last played. It was years ago, a combination of his aging and my apathy. By then, Silver was hitting short pop-ups off the tee, and would laugh that I could catch his ball in the air with only a slight head start. We only ever played once in the U.S., when I was a member at Anglebrook Golf Club in New York. He was excited to play what seemed to him an upscale American club. In true Irish fashion, the rain washed us out after a half-dozen holes, but it didn’t dampen his enthusiasm for the day.

On his 80th birthday, 14 months ago, we had a lengthy conversation during which he repeated the now familiar order: “Don’t forget, you have to write my obituary.”

“It’s already written,” I said. “In fact, you should know it’s going to be in next week’s paper.”

He laughed hard. “Fair enough, I’ve had a good life.” He wasn’t joking about that part.

He died peacefully this morning at home in Northern Ireland, surrounded by the love of his children and grandchildren, lucid and brimming with humor to the last. Due to COVID-19 restrictions, there can be no Irish wake, which seems unfair for a man who lived for relationships. He will be missed.

So here you are, Silver. Your obituary, as requested. One final attempt to repay a lifetime of kindness. I’m only sorry there won’t be another.

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Massachusetts club’s head pro dies during violent storm, trying to help others get off course

As Sullivan drove his golf cart down an access road, a tree fell and killed him.

As usual, Thomas P. “Tom” Sullivan was thinking of others.

A violent storm blew through Wyantenuck Country Club, located in Great Barrington in Massachusetts’ Berkshire Mountains, late Wednesday afternoon and Sullivan, the head golf professional, drove throughout the course to make sure everyone had left safely after he sounded the weather warning horn.

As Sullivan drove his golf cart down an access road, a tree fell and killed him. A neighbor called police after seeing a tree had fallen on the cart. Two police officers found Sullivan on the ground near the cart, which was covered by several fallen trees and branches, but they couldn’t revive him, Great Barrington Police Chief William R. Walsh Jr. told the Berkshire Eagle.

Sullivan, who grew up in Leicester and graduated from St. John’s High School, was 71 years old and, according to his brother Paul of Worcester, he planned to retire on Nov. 1.

“He was a great man,” his daughter Sarah said Thursday by cell phone from the family’s home in Sheffield. “He cared so much about everyone else and how they were doing, how their day was. He wanted to know everything about you and cared so much about everyone. He wanted to make sure that everyone else was having a great day and living in the moment and doing the best they could be doing. He just wanted to make people smile and make everyone’s day better. He was always happy, always smiling, always cracking jokes.”

Sarah was playing at Wyantenuck CC when the storm hit, but left after she heard the weather horn.

“The storm was happening,” she said, “and I usually go up and say, “Bye, I love you,′ when he’s in the pro shop. I just left and I was coming home. Five minutes later, police showed up at my house to tell me my dad had died. It just really (stinks) a lot. It’s hard to process. It’s just a freak accident that doesn’t add up in my head. It’s just not making any sense right now.”

Tom Sullivan, the head pro at Wyantenuck Country Club in the Berkshire Mountains of Massachusetts, was less than a month from retirement when he was killed during a violent storm. Submitted photo

Sarah said her father had driven down an access road near the private country club’s tennis courts so he could reach the lower golf holes quicker to make sure that everyone had left and was safe.

“He didn’t want anybody to be stuck out there in the storm,” she said.

Wyantenuck hosted the Northeast New York PGA Tour Championship on Tuesday and Wednesday and Sullivan presented the winning check to the champion shortly before he died.

Sullivan is survived by his wife, the former Kathy Nelson, a native of Sterling and a member of Wachusett Regional’s athletic hall of fame who has won several women’s club championships at Wyantenuck. Sarah is a sophomore basketball player at Framingham State University who briefly attended Assumption University last year. Sullivan’s son, Ryan, is a freshman at Southern New Hampshire University.

Relatives gathered at the Sullivan home on Thursday.

“It was quite a shock,” Paul Sullivan, 70, of Worcester said of his brother’s death. “The silver lining, I think, is that he died on a golf course. Dying on the course is really appropriate, if you’ve got to die. And it was without fault. It wasn’t a drunk driver hitting him and it wasn’t him doing anything to precipitate this. It was really an act of God.”

Paul Sullivan said the number of condolences the family had received via Facebook, phone calls and text messages soared well into the hundreds.

“He lived a really good life,” Paul Sullivan said, “and he was nice to people and there’s no doubt in my mind that he’s in heaven.”

Sullivan was dedicated to the members at Wyantenuck for 21 years and in 2018 he was honored as Golf Professional of the Year by the Northeast New York PGA section.

“He was a great man who deserves all the accomplishments and awards and everything he got in his life,” his daughter said, “and it just stinks that some of it was taken away too soon.”

Sullivan grew up in Leicester about 200 yards from the first tee at Hillcrest Country Club. In a 2018 interview with the T&G, he remembered junior memberships costing only $25 a year.

“It was so cheap,” Sullivan told the T&G two years ago, “you didn’t even have to sneak on.”

Sullivan caddied at Hillcrest and Pleasant Valley CC, competed in junior golf tournaments at Green Hill Municipal Golf Course, and played football, basketball and baseball for St. John’s High. After hurting his shoulder, he quit baseball and played golf at Seminole Junior College in Orlando, Florida. At age 19 and 20, he combined with Phil “Flip” Davis to win the Worcester Invitational at Worcester CC two years in a row.

“I’m very proud to have my name on a plaque at Worcester Country Club, believe me,” Sullivan told the T&G two years ago.

Sullivan worked as a teaching pro at New Seabury on Cape Cod, then as the head pro at Quaboag CC in Monson before moving on to Wyantenuck, which is located in the southwestern corner of the state just eight miles from both Connecticut and New York.

“When he told me he was retiring,” Paul Sullivan said, “I said, ‘From what?’ I said, ‘What are you going to do, retire and play golf?’ ”

Paul Sullivan said his brother told him that he was going to step down as head pro on Nov. 1, but planned to continue to teach golf lessons.

Sullivan met his wife on a golf course. When former Assumption College athletic director Ted Paulauskas got stuck in traffic and couldn’t caddie for Sullivan in the 1991 Massachusetts Open at Salem CC, Bedrock GC owner Joe Carr recommended that Kathy take his place. A few years later, they married. Carr was shocked by the news of Sullivan’s death.

“I’m sad about it,” Carr said. “I guess it just proves that when it’s your time, it’s your time. There’s not too much you can do about something like that.”

Bill Plante bought Quaboag CC in 1994 when Sullivan was the pro and Sullivan used to play in pro-ams at Plante’s other course, Heritage CC in Charlton.

“He put his life and his soul into the golf business and helped so many people,” Plante said, “and not to be able to enjoy all that now is just tragic.”

In addition to Paul, Sullivan is also survived by two other siblings, a brother, Ken, and a sister, Ursulas Korman, who live in Florida.

Former West Boylston High girls’ basketball coach Mike Dube is married to Kathy’s sister, Linda, and he was one of the many who mourned him at the Sullivan home on Thursday.

“It’s awful,” Dube said. “I feel terrible for his wife, son and daughter. Everybody is in shock right now.”

Funeral arrangements are not complete, but are expected to be in the Great Barrington area.

—Contact Bill Doyle at william.doyle@telegram.com. Follow him on Twitter@BillDoyle15

Obit: Here’s to Joe Couch, who lived the golfing life we all dream of — on Guam

Couch was instrumental in helping to establish a direct relationship with R&A, and Guam’s membership to the Asia Pacific Golf Confederation.

The Guam golfing community has been mourning the death of Guam golf icon Joe Thomas Couch, who died Aug. 16 at the age of 78 after battling a long illness, said Richard Sablan, president of the Guam National Golf Federation, in a release.

Couch was born and raised in El Dorado, Arkansas, and graduated from the University of Arkansas, where he played collegiate golf.

He moved to Guam in 1971 to work for J&G Enterprises’ advertising department, and he joined Glimpses of Guam Magazine in 1974, which at the time was published and run by the U.S. Navy.

Couch ended up taking over the ownership of Glimpses and operated the business for 31 years until selling the company in 2005.

Joe Couch was one of Guam golf's pioneers, securing the island's membership with the R&A and opening the doors to international play. He died on Aug. 16 at 78.
Joe Couch was one of Guam golf’s pioneers, securing the island’s membership with the R&A and opening the doors to international play. He died on Aug. 16 at 78.

Although he was committed to his business, Couch’s passion had always been golf.

He played competitively in the early ’70s to the late ’80s and was also a member of the Guam national men’s team competing the South Pacific Games.

He played in the championship and A-flights, and continued to play recreationally with the Hawaiian Golf Club.

As a member of Guam National Golf Federation, Couch served in several capacities from board member, to president to secretary general.

Couch served alongside the late George Benoit for many years, and the two of them were responsible for the growth and development of the sport of golf on Guam over the last 40 years.

Couch helped establish Guam junior golf as well as the men and women’s amateur golf programs. Couch was instrumental in helping to establish a direct relationship with the Royal & Ancient Golf Club, more commonly known as the R&A, and was instrumental in helping secure Guam’s membership to the R&A affiliate the Asia Pacific Golf Confederation.

Membership in the R&A enabled Guam’s top adult and junior players to receive invitations to participate in world-class amateur tournaments and competitions throughout Asia, the Pacific, the United States and Europe over the years.

In this Pacific Daily News file photo from July 5, 1983, Joe Couch uses some body English to coax his ball into the 13th hole during consolation round finals of the Gems by Gordon Match Play at the Windward Hills Golf and Country Club. Watching is Duke Karsten. File photo by Pacific Daily News)

Over the course of the last several years, Joe’s declining health kept him in the background of the program.

“In spite of his personal situation, he was always there to lend a hand. For as long as he was able, he attended every ranking tournament that was held by the federation almost up to the very end. Whether it was shuttling players to and from the driving range or working as the tournament starter, he was always there to assist,” said Sablan.

“Joe is fondly remembered for his sense of humor and his joking manner. He always kept the meetings lively and upbeat,” Sablan said.

“Joe was a good guy and a lot of fun to work with,” said Carlos Salas, former Guam National Golf Federation vice president. “He was dedicated to the organization and was generous with his time. He will be missed.”

Couch is survived by his wife of 31 years and longtime Guam National Golf Federation national team member Mariquita “Laling” Cruz Couch. He leaves behind a brother, Lonnie Couch, and sister, Betty Couch.

Lost to COVID: Golf ‘pioneer’ Billy Farrell, played in 70 PGA Tour events

Billy Farrell spent 37 years as the head pro at Connecticut’s Stanwich Club and had friendships with legends Sam Snead and Jack Nicklaus.

TEQUESTA, Florida — Billy Farrell embodied what might be a motto for his family, a fixture in PGA circles across multiple generations.

“It was an honor (for him) to serve golf, not the other way around,” said his niece, Mary Kay Willson.

Farrell competed in 70 PGA Tour events, spent 37 years as the head professional at Connecticut’s Stanwich Club and struck up friendships with legends Sam Snead and Jack Nicklaus while a PGA Touring Professional, according to an online obituary that ran in the Greenwich Time. The sport was a way for Farrell’s father, Johnny Farrell, the 1928 U.S. Open champion, to climb out of poverty, Willson said.

William “Billy” Farrell died May 8 in Jupiter from coronavirus. He was 84.

Farrell’s son, Bobby Farrell, and his niece recalled him as someone who dedicated his life to golf, particularly by teaching others who shared in his love for the sport. Farrell was inclusive, Willson said, bringing women and children into the golfing community.

Even while wheelchair-bound and living at Tequesta Terrace assisted living home, Farrell gave informal golf lessons as recently as last winter, his son said.

“He’d just have so much knowledge and answers on stuff that I’m going to really miss,” he said.

Farrell’s 58-year-old son is part of what Willson called an impressive tree of golf pros who learned from Billy Farrell. Bobby Farrell was an assistant pro under his father at Stanwich before he took his current job as head golf professional at Tamarack Country Club, also in Connecticut.

“Billy helped a lot of young players get started and a lot — a lot — of young golf professionals who met and worked with him through the years,” Willson said, adding that her uncle kept a log of all the people he worked with.

Friendly and gregarious, the man was well-loved, Willson said. Memories from past PGA Merchandise Shows in Orlando came to mind.

“It was really cool for me to see he couldn’t walk three steps without someone saying, ‘Billy!’” Willson said.

A young Billy Farrell points to a scoresheet for a mid-1960s Thunderbird Classic competition that was played at Westchester Country Club. [PHOTO PROVIDED BY MARYBETH FARRELL]
Billy Farrell’s own golf career more or less began in his late teens, when he caddied for his father, Johnny, in an event that also featured legend Ben Hogan, Bobby Farrell said.

“He watched Ben Hogan shoot, I think he shot 65, 66, or something like that at Baltusrol (Golf Club in Springfield, N.J.) and the next day my father went out and shot 72 and realized that’s what he wanted to do and became pretty good pretty quickly,” Bobby Farrell said.

Billy Farrell, at left, with golf legend Arnold Palmer. [PHOTO PROVIDED BY MARYBETH FARRELL]
In his playing days, Farrell won the 1964 Metropolitan PGA Championship among other competitions. He’s known for hitting the green at Baltusrol’s par 5 17th hole in two strokes at the 1967 U.S. Open, a feat that golfer John Daly replicated 26 years later to considerable media attention.

Farrell didn’t have much downtime during his career, Bobby Farrell said. Even in retirement, he’d be back out on the links playing with his grandchildren, his son said. He carved out opportunities to fish and travel, often to Colorado to visit family.

His son called Farrell “a really great family man.”

So it was tough on the family when he fell sick and died in May, Bobby Farrell said.

Farrell likely picked up the virus after going to Jupiter Medical Center for an unrelated issue, complications with acid reflux, his son said.

He had symptoms of pneumonia and was moved to hospice, where he died after his health quickly deteriorated, Bobby Farrell said, adding that he holds no ill-will to hospital staff.

“They were doing the best they can do,” he said, adding that the coronavirus “just ripped right through him because his immune system was low anyway.”

One of Farrell’s daughters visited him in hospice, his son said, and Jupiter Medical staff helped members of the large, far-flung family see Farrell via video chat — a setup that has become ubiquitous among grieving families during the pandemic.

In the weeks since his father’s death, Bobby Farrell said the golf community — the Nicklaus family and sportscaster Jim Nantz, among others — has offered considerable support and reached out to the family.

Reflecting on his father’s career, Bobby Farrell said it’s “mind-boggling” that he accomplished so much.

“I had forgotten what his career was like. He was one of the pioneers of a club pro and a touring pro. … I’m still blown away.”

Sam Howard is a reporter for the Palm Beach Post, part of the USA Today Network. Contact Sam at showard@pbpost.com or follow on Twitter @SamuelHHoward.

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