We are lucky at No Laying Up — you could even say blessed — in that we get to interact with so many people in golf over the course of a year.
We travel to weird and fun places, we meet people obsessed with their craft at the highest and lowest stations in the game, and we share stories and break bread, then talk about bogeys that could have been birdies. It remains the best job we could have accidentally chosen, and we are thankful that you come along for the ride and ultimately make it possible.
Whenever the holidays pop up on the calendar, it feels like a natural time to reflect on why we enjoy this sport so much, why it speaks to us in a way that almost nothing else does.
Professional golf can be alluring, yet maddening. From time to time, the scale tips in the wrong direction. Everyone could see some of that disillusionment reflected in the eyes of fans this year. But “professional golf” and “golf” are not the same thing. That’s an important distinction to keep in mind, and one that was a clear theme as we gathered together (just as we did last year) and mulled What We Are Thankful For This Year when we cast a wide net that covers at least some of what we love about this imperfect game.
For starters, we are thankful for the gift of exploration, for the excuse to cross state lines, borders, mountains, or oceans, and see courses that — until this year — have only existed in our heads, or as a collection of pixels on our screens. Collectively, we got to see a dozen bucket list courses this year, both old and new, and many places, we’re already plotting a return.
Maybe it’s weird to be thankful for the Pit at North Berwick, or the Alps at Prestwick. Perhaps the walk from 16 green to 17 tee at Sheep Ranch on a sunny day is old hat to you. It’s possible you’ve seen the coffin bunker on the Postage Stamp at Troon, or felt the firmness of the greens at Royal Melbourne beneath your feet. But a few of us got to experience those things for the first time this year, and when a place you’ve long dreamed about exceeds your already-absurd expectations, it’s a reminder that some cathedrals in this game really are worth making a pilgrimage to experience.
We are particularly thankful this year for the country of Australia — for the people there, their infectious humor, and their respect and love for the game, even when it often goes unrequited by the rest of the world. The courses, pound for pound, are unparalleled. We’re already eager to return.
Speaking of returning, we’ve fallen deeply in love the last few years with the Isle of Arran, that magic piece of rock in the middle of the Firth of Clyde and all the little mysteries and flourishes she offers. We’re going to make a regular pilgrimage here for the foreseeable future. A round at Shiskine will always fill up our cup, help us reconnect to what really matters, and a few nights at the Corrie Hotel are often a recipe for the best sleep of your life. Get there if you can, just don’t tell too many people, okay?
We are thankful, especially at a time when artificial intelligence continues to bleed into every aspect of life, for visionaries. For Old Tom Morris, who paved the way for a Dick Youngscap, who paved the way for a Mike Keiser, whose sons are picking up the torch and running with it. We are grateful too for Matt Goggin and Zac Blair and Nick Schreiber, dreamers who are imprinting their own stamp on the game and leaving it better than they found it by creating places worth seeking out.
We’d also be remiss if we didn’t mention we are thankful for Alister MacKenzie, who we appreciate more with each passing year. One of us even got the chance to play Augusta National this year. We’re still thinking about that eagle chip that almost dripped in on the second hole, and the story we’ll tell our kids one day.
A couple of us have moved to new cities in recent years, and we’ve reluctantly left behind the courses and playing partners we’d grown to love. But in our new places, as we’ve begun to put down roots, we’ve been extremely thankful for the way golf offers connection and communion, the way it allows you to find your tribe and integrate into a community.
Maybe that’s the gals from the Fore the Ladies Five Iron League in Las Vegas, or the randos we get paired up with at Brown Deer Park in Milwaukee, or the delightful weirdos we cross paths with at Dyker Beach in Brooklyn. There is something intimate and revealing about sharing a round of golf with a stranger. Occasionally those chance encounters will lead to lasting friendships. That you can forge a life-long friendship on a course in Australia the same way you can forge one at your local muni is a nice reminder that the world is only as small as you choose to make it.
And while we’re thinking of it, a hearty shout out to local golf associations, particularly the ones where events are well run, have excellent pace of play and are hosted at interesting courses. The Metropolitan Golf Association deserves a specific call out here, but chances are there is something similar in your area you should embrace. It will take you places you would never play otherwise.
We are thankful for the superintendents who create the surfaces we play upon and turn a simple grass field into something so much more. The same goes for the growers, the mowers and shapers, the men and women who are often underpaid and unappreciated. They are around the game way more often than they ever get the chance to play it, and the majority of them take way more pride in their work than their paycheck will ever reflect.
Living in a place where you can't play golf in the winter has made a few of us reflect on how grateful we are for Fall Golf, and those rounds when it feels almost like you’re getting away with something, like you’re cheating the calendar. The Florida boys will never understand the rush of teeing off with a fellow lunatic when the temperature is hovering just south of 50 degrees. The later in the season you play, the more fun it gets, even on days when you can see your breath as the last putt drops.
This might come as a surprise, but we are thankful for the fire hose of content this year churned out by Bryson DeChambeau, and how committed he is to entertaining the audience, whether he’s trying to win a major championship or make a hole-in-one by hitting wedges over the top of his house. No matter what you think of Bryson, he is good for the sport. He makes our jobs more fun. When he put down his U.S. Open trophy and climbed back into the bunker at Pinehurst with Johnson Wagner, then instructed Wagner on how to recreate his remarkable up-and-down, it was the best television segment of the year. At a time when a lot of people within the sport are as riveting as a dial tone, Bryson has tapped into something riveting. And if you don’t like him, he makes for a formidable villain. We are excited to see whatever is next.
At the same time, we’re grateful for Scottie Scheffler and Nelly Korda, two superstars who have forced everyone to chase their level of excellence. It’s essential to have superstars in your sport. Neither has the flair and thirst for the camera that Bryson does, but that’s not a bad thing. A quiet commitment to excellence is alluring in its own way, and the fact that they’re more interested in chasing history than they are likes or subscribers should be the skeleton of the professional game. Professional golf — despite its best efforts — is not a YouTube channel. It’s a place where the most skilled golfers in the world vie for trophies and records. No two golfers grasp that better than Scheffler and Korda, but we’d feel foolish if we didn’t mention we’re thankful for Lauren Coughlin, who reminded us this year that you can control your own destiny if you just keep chipping away at the rock in front of you.
We are thankful, especially when we think about grit and drive, for people who don’t give up. People like our friend Scott Stewart, whose spirit and energy in the face of MND is a testament to the same qualities that made him a standout golfer before the disease took those skills from him. And for our friend Jake Trego, whose relentless positivity and force of will in the fight with cancer — and bout after bout of chemo — has given us a much needed perspective in our own lives. Trego, with his infectious laugh, was the MVP of our Nest Invitational Tournament at Dobson Ranch this year. We are hard pressed to think of a better evening than the one we spent sipping whiskey with him under the stars at one of America’s best munis.
Sometimes the absence of something can make you even more grateful for its eventual return, and that was golf for a couple of us this year. When you can’t play the game, either because of injuries or work obligations or parental responsibilities, it forces you to appreciate it in new and different ways. It makes your love evolve, and helps you understand the depths of it. Some days, we’re content just visualizing the shots we hope to one day hit. Our swings are never disappointing when we lay in bed at night, imagining the holes we yearn to play when life offers up the chance to return.
Lastly, we are thankful for our people, the ones who encourage our infatuation with this strange and beautiful game. First and foremost, for our spouses and partners, because they never fail to celebrate our wins and encourage us to push for more. But we are also thankful for the chance to share this game with our kids. Some of us are already there, basking in the glow of the Solheim Cup or working through the heartache of a Drive Chip and Putt disappointment. Some of us are still in the stage where we’re just changing diapers and trying to hold it together until nap time.
Time marches on, either way, for all of us.
If we’re lucky, if we pass down the stuff we love without pushing too hard, someday they might be stubborn enough and curious enough to insist on making their own lists.
Kevin Van Valkenburg is the Editorial Director of No Laying Up.
Email him at kvv@nolayingup.com
No Laying Up is Chris Solomon, Todd Schuster, Phil Landes, Neil Schuster, D.J. Piehowski, Ben Hotaling, Casey Landman, Cody McBride, Kevin Van Valkenburg and Jordan Perez.
Happy Thanksgiving.