Prologue
It started 17 years ago, on a sunny Mother’s Day when my mother, Kim, and I set out for our lap around Monadnock Country Club, in Peterborough, New Hampshire. Only a few holes in and I was hooked. Before long, golf became my passion and craft, a devout hobby of mine in which I became obsessed. By age seven, I started playing a local junior league, honing my skills with some of the best regional players. This competition only fueled my drive more, and soon enough my appetite for success grew.
In my teenage years, my ambition grew as well. Once an after-school hobby of chasing a little white ball around a field eventually became an all-consuming dream of mine, one that compelled me to keep at, even after a battle with Lyme Disease in my high school years. Shortly after my recovery, my hunger for golf returned and my dream re-ignited: the pursuit of reaching the PGA Tour. I even took a ‘gap year’ to train seriously at the elite Jim McClean Golf School, in Miami, where my PGA pro coach, Mario, pushed me mentally to become even more fiercely focused.
In college, I stayed true to my dream, slowly climbing up the ranks and seeing the progression from one year to the next. With every tournament win the question went from “can I really play professional golf?” to “how soon can I get out there?” Like many other collegiate athletes, the pandemic derailed my senior-year campaign, with the bulk of our spring-season not played. But when one door closes, another opens.
With the future unknown, I returned to California in the fall of 2020, continuing to chase the dream of one day playing on the PGA Tour. Now out of college, I set my sights on what are known as Mini-Tours, a series of regional run professional tournaments with cash prizes for top finishers. This was my first taste of professional golf.
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On a boiling hot, fry-an-egg-on-the-hood-of-you-car kind of day, in Rancho Mirage, California I made my first professional start. The Golden State Tour (a mini-tour operating in California) hosted a three-day tournament at The Westin Resort. Surprisingly, I felt no first-tee-jitters, something rather common on the first hole of a tournament.
“Maybe this won’t be so different from college,” I thought.
But after a lackluster, birdie-free 76, I was painfully mistaken. It was made immediately clear to me that professional golf would be vastly different than college. In college, courses are often “tricked-out,” with set-up conditions resulting in even-par being a rather good score. Now in the pros, I realized the course is ripe for scoring, with low rounds waiting to be had.
Some post-round mental adjustments allowed me to fire a bogey-free 67, three-under-par, second round.
“Ok, maybe I can do this.”
A final round, one-over 71, left me hungry and determined for the next week. I got my toes wet and was ready to play, for real.
The following week, the Golden State Tour hosted another tournament, this time at La Quinta Country Club, about 15 minutes south of Rancho Mirage. La Quinta is a storied desert club, hosting a PGA TOUR stop every January for decades. Phil Mickelson shot 60 during the opening round in 2019. With one tournament experience, my expectations were low, just looking forward to playing such a famed course and learning anything I can from my second start.
This week started much differently than last. I opened with six-under 66, one shot off the lead. A clean, simple, doing-everything-well-but-nothing-great round is exactly the confidence-builder I needed. Any golfer will tell you, those rounds are the most enjoyable.
The second day I battled a shaking back-nine to post a one-under, 71, now five shots off the pace.
“Hey, you never know what might happen tomorrow,” I told my friend Kyle after the round.
Little did I know I would be in the final group the next day, facing off against Jack Ireland and Matt Pinizzotto, two UCLA grads who already had some success on the mini-tours.
That next morning, I had one, if not the worst, warm-up session that I can remember. Legitimately unable to make decent contact for more than two shots in a row, I had to give myself a five-minute crash course on the fundamentals, nothing something you want to be doing right before you tee off.
“Relax, it’s just another round of golf,” I said to myself.
Being in 3rd place starting the round, I was last to tee off. Fortunately, that mini-lesson on the range seemed to help, as I split the middle of the fairway with a 3-wood, a huge nerve-settler to start the day.
An easy two-putt par on one left me five shots back as the leader, Matt made bogey.
“Just one shot at a time,” I whispered to myself.
The second hole was a bit more difficult. A narrow, longer par-four that turned slightly to the left, guarding by out-of-bounds on both sides. My tee shot was straight but found the fairway bunker right in the middle of the hole.
Now the worst thing for a golfer to do before hitting a difficult shot is thinking about it too much. And that is exactly what I did. The group in front was rather slow exiting the green, giving me ample time to overanalyze my upcoming shot. As a result, I fanned it, about 15 yards short-right, leaving a tricky up and down.
“Now it’s getting fun!” I joke to myself.
My short game is the strongest aspect of my golf game, and it didn’t let me down here. A nice chip to about 10 feet is all I need as I buried the putt for par. Another massive confidence-builder early in the round.
“Now it’s really getting fun.”
Following a nice bunker save on the par-3 third, a good tee shot and approach on four, I drained a 30-foot birdie putt on four, now one-under for the day.
The par-5 fifth gives an excellent scoring opportunity, but I could not capitalize. However, I redeemed myself on the par-5 sixth, knocking a two-iron from about 250 yards to 15 feet, setting up a nice look for eagle. Unfortunately, I could not convert, and settled for birdie; two-under on the round, three back following some mistakes from the leader.
A settled into a groove on the next three holes, all two-putt pars. Simple and easy. The tenth hole saw some theatrics as a wayward approach shot led to an awkward stance for my following chip shot, perched just on the grass lip above the bunker. Facing away from the hole at a 45-degree angle, I hooded the clubface and popped the ball out, letting it track about six feet from the hole. I hadn’t made a bogey yet today, and sure wasn’t going to let that happen now, as I curled the par putt on the lower edge of the cup.
The par-5 11th allowed me to attack again, blasting a 3 wood into the greenside bunker on my second, and scrambling from there to make birdie. Three-under on the round, 10-under for the tournament, four back of Jack who was cruising at five-under for the day.
I backed the birdied at 11 up with another at the 212 yard, par-3 12th, burying a nice 18-foot putt from just off the green.
“Three back, six to play. Almost a ballgame we got,” I thought.
On the 13th, another par-5 gave all three of us in the group a chance to make a move. We all hit solid drives, and all going for the green in two.
Like it was on the second hole, an untimely delay caused us to wait a tad longer than what would be comfortable.
I had about 255 yards to the flag, a little much for a two-iron, but a 3 wood might go long. With out-of-bounds left, I settled on the two-iron, knowing the front right bunker was a fine placement.
I could feel my focus narrow, almost to the point where I thought I could see which grain of sand I was aiming at. I was the first to hit, and I kid you not, I hit my shot within a foot of that grain of sand. After an easy splash out of the bunker and a three-foot birdie putt, I was now five-under, still three back.
The 14th was the hardest hole on the course. About 475 yards, back into the wind, with out of bounds looming down the left side, now was the time to hit a good tee shot. I stepped up and knocked a bullet down the right center of the fairway, possibly my best drive of the week. From 185 yards, I flushed a seven-iron to 15-feet below the hole.
“Game on.”
I read the putt so well, could see exactly how it was breaking and which way it wanted to move. Unfortunately, I didn’t hit it hard enough, as it curled just a fraction low and left. A tap in par doesn’t hurt, though. But, I know the importance of that putt, now three-shots back, four holes to play.
That miss birdie put would prove impactful again as Jack would bogey 15th to my par, now putting me two-back and only three holes to play.
We walked up to the tee on the challenging par-four 16th, with trees covering the left side of the fairway and a water hazard flanking the right. Both Jack and I pull our shots down the left tree line, a safer miss than taking on the water to the right. We both had open shots to green for our approaches. But the deciding factor came on the green, where I left my birdie up short and he drained his, now taking a commanding three-shot lead.
Again on 17, he buried a 25-footer from just off the green, while I lagged a 35-footer close and cleaned up for par.
The result was clear. While 18 could offer some theatrics, with a water hazard lurking down the entire left side, Jack played well out to the right, over down to the 10th hole, a high Golf-IQ move with a large lead on 18. I smoked a two-iron off the tee, a little too good as it rolled out into the right fairway bunker. A little work left to lock up solo second place.
When I settled over my approach shot from the sand, I thought Matt trailed me by 1, and I couldn’t take my foot off the gas. As it turns out, during the post-round scoring, Matt was evidently two shots back of me on 18, an extra cushion I didn’t realize I had. In golf, and life at times, ignorance can be bliss, and the extra pressure of thinking I am not out of the woods yet can work in your favor. I clipped my ball off the sand, knocking on the right edge of the green, about 25 feet from the hole. Jack missed the green to right, but it was nothing to write-home-about with a four-shot lead.
Now, with 25 feet left, I cozied my putt to tap in range and cleaned up the par attempt, finishing with a bogey-free, five-under 67, and 12-under for the tournament. By far my best week of tournament golf in several months.
Walking off the green I felt a mix of emotions. First, joy. In only two starts, I earned my first paycheck as a professional golfer, $1,800. I think at that moment, any amount of money would have felt like a million bucks, as I was just thrilled to be able to accomplish a life-long goal of mine! However, that joy was quickly corrupted with my competitive hunger, as a little voice in my head said,
“Yeah second is cool, but you came here to win.”
And not 30 minutes after the round I was already thirsty for the next tournament. My run at this one only fueled my desire more, pushing me to chase that dream of the little kid in his backyard. Now knowing I have the game it takes to pursue the ever-elusive prize of a PGA Tour membership, and await my next chance on the competitive battlefield; 18 holes dotted around a grass field, ready for the next set of challenges, another chance for me to sharpen my teeth in the world of professional golf. A competitive golfer’s zeal never dies. I left that exciting tournament headed home with a fire in my belly, ready for more!
