There is an anecdote about Tiger Woods that I’ve thought about endlessly.

It came from an interview Tiger gave when he was on the cusp of turning 40. For the majority of his career, Tiger treated interviews like interrogation sessions. Journalists could try to pry information out of him, try and convince him to share his emotions, his perspective, his wisdom,  but his job — as he viewed it — was to withhold. Any vulnerabilities he revealed might be somehow used against him. It was his job to maintain the aura that surrounded him like a protective charm, to keep almost everyone at arm’s length.

But as he wrestled with the idea that his career might be over, there was a subtle shift in tone, in the way he told stories. He began to see the value of letting his guard down, of letting us inside his world, if only briefly. Thus, weeks before he turned 40, he opened up in a surprise interview with Time Magazine about a moment that made him wonder if his golfing life was finished.

He was practicing in his backyard, gently hitting flop shots over a bunker, when something in the movement tweaked a nerve in his spine. He crumpled to the turf, and could not get up. Pain radiated through his body. He was all alone, as he often liked to be — no security, no friends, no family to distract him. Just the quiet rhythms of golf and his own thoughts. He didn’t even have his phone, so he could not call for help. He might have shouted, but on his vast estate, who would even hear him? The greatest golfer of his generation, likely the greatest golfer of all time, lay twisted and broken in his own backyard, uncertain of what to do next.

Tiger’s daughter Samantha, 10 years old at the time, came looking for him.

“Daddy, what are you doing lying on the ground?” she asked.

“Sam, thank goodness you’re here,” Tiger replied. “Can you go tell the guys inside to try and get the cart out, to help me back up?”

The rest of the story — the miracle back surgery, the unlikely return to golf, the improbable Masters victory — has been well chronicled. But that moment in the yard, and Tiger’s willingness to share it, was the first time I felt like I could relate to him, if only a little. I am not good at golf, but I’ve had a back so sore I could barely walk, and I’ve felt humbled and disappointed by life. I’ve tried to be a good dad through a divorce. There was a larger metaphor there, even if he was merely hinting at it. In his weakest moment, Tiger was sharing that he’d been rescued by the love of his daughter. Instead of deflecting vulnerability, or perceiving it as weakness, he was leaning into it. 

I thought about that story years later, when Tiger was on the back nine at Augusta, trying to close out his 15th major.

I was at home on my couch, sulking because I wasn’t in attendance. I had covered the previous three Masters, but had not been tapped by my employer for this one.

As I watched Tiger strategize his way around Amen Corner, I was having trouble enjoying the moment. I hated myself for thinking it, but selfishly, I wanted someone else — anyone else — to win. Just for a moment. Not because I was rooting against him, but because I wanted to be there when he pulled it off.

As a journalist, I missed Tiger’s prime. I’d spent half my life writing about football. I saw layers in the game, and details too, that produced interesting stories. I’d written about Tom Brady and Peyton Manning and Aaron Rodgers over the course of 11 years at ESPN, a place where the appetite for more football stories could never be satiated. But golf writing, an offseason gig I’d come to late in my career, started to feel strangely spiritual to me. The quiet rhythms of the game, the way tension hung heavily but wordlessly in the air in big moments, the way the ball knifed through the sky and made you hold your breath as you traced its intended arc, all of it brought me — and I have no better way to describe it — joy. I wasn't particularly romantic about golf’s haughty traditions, and I loathed its exclusionary history, but playing the game and writing about it in my 20s and 30s helped me find my tribe.

By the time I had the chance to see Tiger in person, I mostly had to write about the way the game broke him. I even penned a column imploring him to transition into coaching, an endeavor that clearly gave him joy. But there was always a flicker of hope buried somewhere inside me that he wasn’t truly finished. As it grew larger that Sunday in 2019, I realized I had spent more hours and years than I could count anticipating this, wanting this, awaiting this. It was like the arrival of Halley’s Comet. There would be no second chance. I needed more time.

My daughter did not see it that way. Her 7-year-old brain could sense my discomfort. Around the 15th hole, she crawled into my lap and became highly invested in the outcome. Tiger Woods, a man whose last major victory came four years before she was born, was suddenly her favorite golfer. For years, I’d been trying to explain to her why he was special, but for the entirety of her life, he was little more than a grainy figure on YouTube. Now here he was in real time, offering her proof that I had not been exaggerating his gifts.

I teared up as we watched Tiger seal the win, watched him hug his own kids just behind the 18th green. Something in me had shifted. If I’d been in Georgia, I would have witnessed history, but I would not have shared that moment with her.

Later that night, Chris Solomon, the co-founder of this website, texted me: 

Come on the podcast tomorrow. Tell me what you would have written about Tiger.

And if you ever want to come work here, just know, we’ll find a place for you.

Four years later, my daughter remains a golf obsessive. We frequently practice putting in our backyard, and have plans to erect our own driving range net soon. (Pray for the neighbors.) She asked for a box of Pro V1s in her stocking at Christmas. Charlie and Tiger playing together this year in the PNC Championship was basically her Super Bowl. She rages after bad shots, a habit I can’t tell if she picked up from me or Tiger. At night, before bed, we read at her insistence chapters from Tiger’s instructional tome 

Every day, I am thankful for how it played out.

After thinking about it a long time, I decided to run toward joy.

Today is my first day with No Laying Up. I’m going to serve as NLU’s Editorial Director, a title we made up because it sounds interesting and we wanted something that could cover just about everything. It turns out, you can do that at a small company. For now, I’ll anchor the expansion of our written content, lead some new content for Nest members and continue annoying you with my ridiculous Gary Player impression.

Sometimes life, and golf, gives you exactly what you need when you least expect it.

The past several years away from golf (at least writing regularly about it) gave me plenty of time to think about what it means to me, and what it means to others. Not only did I miss Tiger’s win at Augusta, I missed Phil’s win at Kiawah. I decided I could not stomach missing whatever once-in-a-generation celestial event came next, only to be surprised when the next one turned out to be the arrival of LIV.

What LIV lacked in sentiment it more than made up for with intrigue. At Centurion Club outside London, I shadowed Phil Mickelson as much as I could, longing to chronicle the return of the swashbuckling, shit-talking artist who was a magnet throughout my youth. That I instead saw him operate like a hollowed out, zombified version of himself was disconcerting, but interesting in its own way. I left England wondering how different the landscape of professional golf might look in 2023 if Greg Norman’s father would have simply hugged him more, snuffing out his inner Bond villain instead of fueling it. I also left with the understanding that it would take years to sort out the winners from the losers.

The professional game, despite its massive influence, is also only a fraction of what matters. Golf is a funnel, and while greatness exists in the narrowest part, what feeds into it is just as important. It has zero impact on my regular Sunday game with friends, where shooting 78 on a humid afternoon with a hot dog at the turn and a handful of warm beers still feels like a series of small miracles. Those stories — not necessarily my own, but ones like it — are worth telling too. At No Laying Up, I finally feel like I have the chance to do both.

I remain in awe of Tiger, though, and his commitment to an idea that rewards should be earned, that no answers are as satisfying as the ones found in the dirt. Some of his philosophies are corny, but I’ve realized in studying him over the years, so am I. I also missed his wistful but hasty march across the Swilcan Bridge this past summer. If he ever makes it back to St. Andrews, I know I’m going to be in attendance, notebook in hand, scribbling down whatever details I can. This is the last gasp of the greatest athlete of my lifetime, and whatever magic he has left, I want to see it with my own eyes.

I doubt there will be a 16th major. A fused back and a crooked leg is so much to overcome. In all likelihood, I missed my chance. But something about his stubborn insistence to keep on trying, the refusal to shut down his pursuit of one more (or three more) is just as compelling. I’ve been wrong about him in the past. But it’s been fun to be wrong, those moments when I’m surprised and elated by an outcome I once deemed a fantasy. I hope I’m wrong repeatedly.

Someday, I know, one of my daughters may have to pick me up when I am broken. There will be a time when my body, or my mind, deteriorates to the point where I cannot hide my weaknesses from them. But that’s okay. There is much to be done in the interim, courses to see and memories to make and majors to cover. All any of us can hope for is that we’ve led a life that makes someone we love want to find us when we’re vulnerable, someone who will prop us up, nurse us back to health, and steer us toward the proper tees, confident this is right where we belong.

Kevin Van Valkenburg spent 11 years at ESPN as a senior writer, and 11 years prior to that at the Baltimore Sun. He lives in Baltimore with his wife and three daughters.

"Comets"

The top players on the PGA Tour, led by Rory McIlroy and Tiger Woods, have finalized a proposal that would dramatically reshape the Tour and incentivize the best players to play together more frequently, according to numerous sources with first-hand knowledge of the plan.

The proposal, which would create an elevated series of limited field events, will be sent to PGA Tour commissioner Jay Monahan this week, another unexpected twist in what has been a tumultuous year for men’s professional golf.

Multiple sources told No Laying Up this week that McIlroy and Woods have been leading the discussions among the top players for the past seven weeks, hoping to find ways to solidify support for the PGA Tour, which has seen a number of high profile players join LIV Golf, and its millions in guaranteed contracts, in recent months.

According to multiple sources close to the situation, the proposed plan would involve limiting fields and elevating purses at up to 15 events on the PGA Tour, creating a series of events around which the game’s top players have all committed to build their schedules.

“We need to get the top guys together more often than we do,” McIlroy told the media this week at the BMW Championship.

McIlroy and Woods, along with the PGA Tour’s biggest stars, have been formally discussing systemic changes dating back to an initial meeting at the JP McManus Pro-Am in Ireland on July 3. Since then, McIlroy and Woods have hosted various meetings with players, representatives, consultants and advisers – including Commissioner Jay Monahan – which culminated in a meeting to present a plan to players on August 16 at the BMW Championship.

Twenty-two players attended the most recent meeting at the Hotel Du Pont in Wilmington, Delaware. Invitations were said to be strictly players-only, as the golfers were walked through the specifics by an outside consultant familiar with the proposal.

Players in attendance were: Scottie Scheffler, McIlroy, Patrick Cantlay, Jon Rahm, Xander Schauffele, Justin Thomas, Collin Morikawa, Will Zalatoris, Viktor Hovland, Matt Fitzpatrick, Sam Burns, Jordan Spieth, Tony Finau, Billy Horschel, Cameron Young, Joaquin Niemann, Max Homa, Shane Lowry, Tyrell Hatton, Kevin Kisner, Adam Scott, Rickie Fowler and Woods.

According to numerous sources inside and outside the meeting, all twenty-three players left the meeting unanimous in their support of the proposed plan. 

While the plan would not contain the large sums of guaranteed money reported to be included in many LIV Golf contracts, the upside for the game’s top players is apparent.

The proposed series of “top-tier” events would feature reduced fields – a to-be-determined number and a mix of exempt players and weekly qualifiers from the other events on Tour. 

Many details of the proposal are conceptual and will need to be worked out in conjunction with the PGA Tour for feasibility. For instance, it’s unclear which events on the PGA Tour schedule would be elevated to this “elite series” status under the proposal.

According to the proposal, the remaining events – the ones not included in the elevated series – would still be played for similar purses as they are today. (An event like the John Deere Classic, which sits on the lower end of the PGA Tour regular season purses, still puts up a $7.1 million total prize pool and more than $1.2 million to the winner.) Those remaining events would also be used to offer a number of qualifying spots for the upcoming “top-tier” event to top finishers, guaranteeing that players of any status have a defined path to the series.

The proposal also includes a provision that players exempt for the elevated series would be required to play at least three events outside the series per season.

, these elevated events would feature purses of $20 million. However, according to multiple sources inside the Wilmington meeting, the report that the Tour would renounce its tax-exempt status and the report that the Tour would plan to privatize and sell equity in the new venture were inaccurate. Those topics were not discussed, according to sources inside the room.

The proposal would be a stark departure from the PGA Tour’s current set up, which includes more than 40 events of varying star power at which fans, broadcasters and sponsors are often unsure what type of field will be present.

The next steps will likely come from the PGA Tour, which will have to review the proposal and its feasibility. The PGA Tour declined to comment on the proposal Sunday when contacted by No Laying Up. Commissioner Jay Monahan is expected to speak to the media Tuesday of this week’s Tour Championship.

Editor’s Note: A previous version of this story did not include Adam Scott listed among the players in attendance. Multiple sources confirm that he was also in attendance at the meeting, and the story has been updated to reflect that.

Chris Solomon, Tron Carter and D.J. Piehowski contributed to this report. For more information and context, 

listen to this week’s No Laying Up Podcast

, available wherever you get your podcasts.

Rory, Tiger, top players agree on vision for PGA Tour changes

Lakareber Abe is the newest No Laying Up Young Hitter!

Lakareber Abe, our newest Young Hitter, will be teeing it up this week at the Carlisle Arizona Women’s Golf Classic (presented by Her Majesty the Governor) in Mesa, along with fellow squad members Lauren Coghlin and Meghan MacLaren.


Lakareber turned professional in 2018 after a stellar career at the University of Alabama.  Her 2018 and 2019 Symetra results include 50% cuts made and three top 25’s each year, the highlight being a T26 at the 2019 Symetra Tour Championship.

Lakareber had a hot start to the 2020 season with her high finish of T3 at Florida’s Natural Charity Classic in March just prior to the COVID shutdown.  After the restart, she made 4 of 9 cuts, including a T25 and T28.  She finished the year 41st on the Symetra money list.

While attending the University of Alabama, Lakareber’s honors included SEC All-Freshman (2014-15), Second Team All-SEC (2015-16), SEC Academic Honor Roll (2015-16), Third Team EGCA All-American (2015-16), SEC Academic Honor Roll (2016-17), and Second Team All-SEC (2017-18).  She holds the school record for low tournament round after her 63 during the 3rd round of the 2016 Mason Rudolph Championship.  In 2018, Alabama made it to the final match against the University of Arizona at the NCAA National Championship.  The final team match included at least six current professional golfers, including Haley Moore who birdied the 19th hole for the win over Lakareber.


Currently, Lakareber reports her strengths are her irons and wedges, and her driving and putting have improved the last few years.  She continues to work on her game around the greens, which you know…..tell me about it.


A native of the Houston area, Lakareber got introduced to golf through her family.  Her father began bringing her and her older sister Tezira to the First Tee when they were 11 and 9, respectively.  Lakareber first broke 80 about two years later, and first broke par around age 12 in a U.S. Kids event.  Tezira played her college golf at the University of Texas and is now a lawyer.  As the daughter of Ugandan immigrants, Lakareber is an important presence in the women's game and we’re looking forward to following her success.

No Laying Up could not be more excited to support Lakareber in all of her endeavors.  If you want to #getinvolved and check out more of the story, follow these links:

Young Hitters:  Welcoming Lakareber Abe

Madelene Sagström is the newest No Laying Up Young Hitter!

https://twitter.com/NoLayingUp/status/1352039902641324034

(Cover photo courtesy of Madelene Sagstrom Instagram)

Madelene is poised for a breakout on the LPGA tour this season. She is the defending champion at the Gainbridge LPGA, the next stop on tour, albeit at a different course this year, Lake Nona (shoutout Nona Blue and G-Mac’s sliders). That event in Orlando is Feb 25-28, with the tour slowly ramping up play for the rest of the 2021 season.

Madelene becomes the first Young Hitter to have won on a Big Tour, and takes over the highly watched spot as Best Young Hitter Never to Have Won a Major.

Madelene’s track record on those big stages is pretty strong:

T-11 at the 2017 KPMG Women’s PGA Championship (Olympia Fields North Course)

T-17 at the 2018 U.S. Women’s Open (Shoal Creek Club)

T-20 at the 2018 Women’s British Open (Royal Lytham & St. Annes Golf Club)

T-23 at the 2020 KPMG Women’s PGA Championship (Aronimink Golf Club)

 were impressive, to say the least.  Highlights included wins at the 2009 Swedish Junior Stroke-play Championship and the 2011 French Junior Championship, and a spot on the winning Swedish team at the European Ladies' Team Championship at Golf Club Murhof in Austria.  In total, Madelene’s junior career saw 11 wins, 10 second place finishes, and 21 top 10’s.

 for the LSU Lady Tigers team at Louisiana State University in Baton Rouge, Louisiana from 2011-2015.  She was the 2015 SEC Player of the Year, 2015 First Team All-American, and a finalist for the ANNIKA Award which is presented annually to the top female U.S. collegiate golfer.  During Madelene’s senior year she set a season record for stroke average at 71.48, the first LSU women’s play to average under 72 for a single season.  She carded 23 of 33 rounds of par or better with 2 wins (3 total at LSU).  Over the summers Madelene returned to Sweden and represented her home country in the European Women’s Team Amatear competition.

Madelene earned her LPGA card after killing it on the Symetra Tour in 2016 – three victories to earn Rookie and Player of the Year awards, respectively. Madelene also represented Europe on the 2017 Solheim Cup team as a captain’s pick of Annika Sörenstam.

Sagström had a solid end to 2020, making cuts in 8 of her last 9 starts, a solo 10th and T-13 among them. Madelene competed in the 2021 season-opening Diamond Resorts Tournament of Champions, a no-cut cash grab, so business is boomin for 2021.

As usual, the bag is niiiiice. NLU livin that C-Suite life alongside the Four Seasons Orlando, which also happens to be the home course of one Julio Bell, aka “La Maquina.” 

No Laying Up could not be more excited to support Madelene in all of her endeavors.  If you want to get #involved, check out:

https://www.instagram.com/madelenesagstrom/?igshid=pb4d4vqeh80j

https://www.lpga.com/players/madelene-sagstrom/98642/overview 6

And to see more of Madelene’s game, check out the Wild World of Golf episode with her, Annie Park, Soly and “Stuck in Traffic” Lefty Tron at the Winter Park Nine: 

https://nolayingup.com/videos/wwog/wild-word-of-golf/wild-world-of-golf-winter-park-9-madelene-sagstroem-and-annie-park

Young Hitters:  Welcoming Madelene Sagström

Tron and I made the trip up to South Pittsburg, Tennessee this past weekend for “The Ringer.” He gathered 60 golf junkies to help get the word out about his project in his home state of Tennessee called “The Buck Club.” He’s engaged King Collins Golf Design on the project, has all 18 holes laid out, as well as some bonus holes. He talks about how his world travels have influenced this golf course, and how Sweetens Cove synced him up with Rob Collins. Take a look at the video, and please do whatever you can to visit Sweetens Cove.

VIDEO: Zac Blair unveils his plans for the Buck Club at The Ringer at Sweetens Cove

The sensation of longing for a place one has not yet been.

The flight from Atlanta to Chattanooga is about 30 minutes from wheels-up to touch-down. The idle waiting on the tarmac at the world’s busiest airport was, of course, much longer.

Not that I was keeping track. I didn’t have to. The minutes waiting to push back from the jetway felt like hours, and no one could convince me that they were not. I was sitting in seat 36A on an MD-88, which, for the uninitiated, is a special little corner of personal hell. It is a “window” seat with no window, as one of the fuselage-mounted engines happens to be riveted directly into your left eardrum. To my right, across the aisle, sat a polite but talkative 16 year old girl who left her inside voice somewhere back in grade school. Her entire life story, spilled wistfully to her half-interested seat-mate, became the cadence of my last nerves zapping bright white spots in my narrowing vision, as a feeling of mild claustrophobia welled inside of me. I needed a distraction.

Closing my eyes, I took a few deep breaths while I cocked my head to the side and rested it against the plastic interior of the airplane. In my mind’s eye, I replayed from memory the flyover video I’d watched no fewer than twenty times in the previous seven days–hole by hole, shot by shot–of the reason for enduring the pleasureless vibes of basic economy air travel.

Finally getting airborne was a relief. The whir of the fully spooled-up engines ignited my senses, as did the g-forces that pinned me further back in my already…

seat. I’ve flown all my life, but never had a flight felt so constricting, yet so liberating all at once. The quick hop gave me a few fleeting minutes to day-dream. I recalled, perhaps imperfectly, one of my favorite lines from Travis Hill’s splendid story in The Golfer’s Journal No. 2. “A glorious plume of vape smoke filled the morning air. ‘When that clears,’ he said, ‘you’ll see one of the greatest opening par fives in the world.'”

A calmness came over me. Our flight began descending as quickly as it reached its ultra-low cruising altitude of 14,000 feet. We touched down a few minutes later, and even though I was in the last row, I did not feel impatient while watching the passengers filter down the aisle, swiftly turning left and disappearing off the plane in single file. I grabbed my belongings and shimmied my way between the seats and past the flight crew who bid me a good night.

I pulled my suitcase up the jetway’s slight incline until I was thrust into the empty, dark terminal. Looking up, an advertisement crested the only hallway, over the escalator heading down toward the baggage claim.

“You’ve arrived! GIG CITY Home of the Nation’s Fastest Internet,” the mural proclaimed.

“Who woulda thunk it?” I mused to myself. As nice as the greeting was, and as ordinarily excited as a tech-literate millennial like me might otherwise be about such a revelation, I couldn’t help but shrug about the irony of such a first impression. After all, the internet had (thankfully) brought me and my companions for this trip together; soon enough, we’d all use the web to tell the world how great our pilgrimage had been. But for the next 24 hours, I wanted to get as far away from the real world as possible.

I deeply longed, in the truest sense of the word, for a place I had not yet been. But I was closer than ever to the destination of my daydreams–Sweetens Cove Golf Club.

The premise for our trip–or the excuse, if we’re being honest–was a 10 vs. 10 match play team event in honor of D.J. Piehowski’s thirtieth birthday. The Thirsty Cup, as we dubbed it, was nascent in its creation, but already historical in its importance–at least in our own little corner of the golf Twitterverse.

We didn’t have a clear set of rules. Or a definite format. We barely had a trophy.

But we had a vision, and two fearless leaders to execute it. The inaugural matches would be played between Team Tron and Team D.J.

While Team D.J. may have been slightly more golf-inclined, Team Tron, of which I was a part, “put a strong emphasis on team room vibes,” as our captain so eloquently put it. We were fine putting on the 

I summoned a ride as I waited outside the terminal in Chattanooga. After a ten minute jaunt through the sleepy river-edged town, my Uber driver promptly delivered me at the front porch of our 

 accommodations. As a working stiff, I was the last to arrive, shortly after midnight. I barged through the front door to a rousing cheer, obviously fueled by the collective consumption of a few adult beverages. Although the pairings party was already well-underway, it became apparent rather quickly that I hadn’t missed much in the way of locked-down information. I grabbed a beer out of the fridge, shook a few hands, and found my way to the last available seat on the couch.

I sat quietly, watching Captains D.J. and Tron delve out pairings over cross-talk that would rival any cable news show at 2:30 in the afternoon. Thankfully, one of the participants, Kevin Van Valkenburg, kept studious journalistic notes on the matches–pairings, sequence, and all. I listened intently for my name to be called.

My first partner, for the two-man scramble, would be Travis “the Thrill” Hill, of The Golfer’s Journal fame. My second partner, for the alternate shot, would be Adam “So Good” Sarson, our resident ambassador from the Great White North. I could already tell this was going to approach levels of fun I hadn’t even considered.

While the pairings party started to wind down, I knew the only chance of making a contribution to my team was to get at least a modicum of precious sleep. Soly, benevolent soul that he is, offered me the opportunity to set up my air mattress in the master bedroom closet. It struck me as odd, to be sure, but also practical. And when I finally inflated the air mattress within it, I realized that in a house full of 16 dudes, I had actually lucked into a quiet, dark corner to call my own. This was becoming a theme of the day, but the closet was decidedly more comfortable than seat 36A that I’d occupied a few hours earlier.

The final obstacle to achieving a good night’s rest was my own excitement. Spoiler alert: I didn’t overcome it.

Less than an hour later, I was tip-toeing around downstairs, searching for coffee-related items, and trying not to wake the whole house. Second spoiler alert: I didn’t overcome that obstacle, either.

Our caravan approached the driveway, and slowed down as our tires crackled over the gravel. The little red sign that reads “Sweetens Cove Golf Club” is slightly overgrown and deliberately unassuming–in other words, the exact opposite of the course itself. A veer to the right reveals a little green shed and an unpaved parking lot–both as unassuming as the sign out front.

Then, you drive to the edge of the hill, and you see it.

A first impression that sticks with you. Photo by Jim Hartsell.

The first thing that hits you is the scale–you couldn’t imagine nine holes could occupy so much playable turf.

The second thing that hits you is the shear, unrelenting beauty of the place. The amber hues of the tall, waving grasses against the subtle hazel of the turf. The rolling mounds that mimic the smoky blue-grey mountains surrounding three sides of the property. For our group, that morning, we were treated to misty fog that settled right on top of us; it served as a bubble enclosing us in our own little world–just 20 young men, a “trophy,” and a little slice of golf paradise.

 features at Sweetens Cove; the place feels like a living monument to bold thinking in golf architecture. The course speaks loudly for itself. That’s one reason why everything else about the place is so understated. Perhaps most refreshing is that the architect, Rob Collins, and the general manager, Patrick Boyd, intuitively understand how the course bellows, and they don’t need to add much else in the form of spoken words. They let you find your own way of trying to express it. And if a simple google search for “Sweetens Cove” is any indication, 

. I must now try my best to conjure some that haven’t been written before. Here’s what I came up with:

Sweeten’s Cove is a Three Michelin Star restaurant in a truck-stop town that can notoriously support not one, but 

 Subways (and only one of them serves food that might qualify as edible). But locale, if not for the natural topography, is basically beside the point. As the Michelin Guide portends, “Three stars is the ultimate accolade, afforded only to those restaurants that offer ‘exceptional cuisine’ that is ‘worth a special journey.’” There is no doubt that what Sweetens is serving up is worth the meandering trip to South Pittsburg, Tennessee. Sweetens’ kitchen offers a sumptuous, indulgent nine-course tasting menu, and Executive Chef Collins knows how to make an impression.

If you first eat with your eyes, the par five opening hole is the perfect precursor upon which to begin your feast. Bombs away from the highest point on the property, the first tee shot is equal parts inviting and intriguing. Collins offers generous width to atone for the lack of your driving range aperitif. But his plating of bunkers and grasses and a far-flung water hazard also guide you on how to use your utensil of choice. The first bite is satisfying, sure. But it only hints at the depth and breadth of the assault on your palette to come. Indeed, the first green offers a sampling of two classic design features, with both a punchbowl and reverse redan incorporated into the same massive site. The green is fronted by a Dye-inspired bunker that would surely meet the approval of the man himself.

The Mitre Bunker that guards the first green. Photo by Kevin Livingood/Rob Collins.

Now that all your synapses are firing after your initial experience with a King/Collins green, the second hole offers no let-up from the intensity of the first. The green here is the capstone of a peppery dish–the spicy note of a stew composed from rolling undulations of the putting surface keeps building until you find the bottom hole and a much deserved reprieve.

The third hole is your first entree–this dish would be that perfectly rosy-colored duck breast at your favorite French bistro. The unrelenting shot values represent a new depth of flavor with each bite sized stroke you take, until you reach the finale and find that the course’s only aerial hazard, protecting the perched green, is waiting to ask one last question about how daring you feel.

Only upon reaching the fourth tee do you understand how special this feast of the senses is about to become. KING, as it is called, is the “we don’t really have a recipe–a pinch of this; a dash of that” course that changes in flavor profile every day but never deviates away from its delicious core concept. A front left pin may be a treasure hidden from view, while a back right pin shows you everything you need to know about the hole without revealing any secrets on the execution required. Maybe 120 yards today; maybe 190 yards tomorrow. A great chef must give his staff room to experiment with the menu.

By this point, you might be wondering about a less-inspired-by-comparison, transitional dish. At first glance, the mere 290 yards comprising the fifth would seem to be just that. But this small, rare, cheese and nuts course–ostensibly serving as a lighter bridge between the first half of the track and the second–is anything but a throwaway. The tee shot asks you more than a few questions, and only upon a second or third or fourth helping may you finally discover the answers. The green is guarded by a deathly pit one might say is the pungent danish blue cheese on the plate; not inedible, but perhaps delightfully bitter in taste if curiosity or carelessness leads to an unexpected detour.

The captivating fifth packs a lot of punch into a meager sub-300 yards of terror. Photo by Rob Collins.

If you ordered the wine pairings, you’ll finally get a big ol’ taste of water on the sixth to wash it all down. A nontraditional take on a classic, the cape-like vibe of this crescent wonder is a big, beefy wagyu feature. It is just the type of dish that deserves a preliminary tête-à-tête stare down for a minute while you build up enough courage to take it on. This brutally long and deftly protected hole is not for those with a weak heart (or high blood pressure).

If there is a palette cleansing hole, it would be the seventh. A shorter par 4, this hole reveals its hidden splendor as a tart, crisp coulee setting up the grand finale. In my trip to Sweetens, I first had the opportunity to meet Rob and Patrick, formally, as they sat behind this hole and watched our opening match of the Thirsty Cup. Admittedly, I may have been slightly more bashful had I not absolutely stuffed my approach to four feet while they looked on. But having conquered the hardest part of this hole (finding the appropriate tier of the multi-plateaued green), I puffed my chest and confidently strolled over to offer my hand to Rob and Patrick, giving my finest personal compliments to the Chef and Sous Chef, respectively. Ever humble and gracious to host us at the Chef’s table, Collins whipped up something truly delectable for a two-course dessert.

Architecturally, there is nothing I would change about Sweetens Cove. Every hole presents infinite strategic options–each shot demands your full attention–each hazard is deftly placed in the exact location from which you want to make your next swing. What’s more, we found out first hand that the mammoth greens, with all their swales and rolls and plateaus, truly define the strategy of the hole, all the way back to the tee.

A prime example is the non-traditional biarritz eighth. With its beastly swale, it could only be the devil’s food cake of our culinary experience. The green is almost comically large and oriented about forty degrees front-right to back-left from the fairway. The pitch, meanwhile, is in the opposite direction. While the majority of the green is perched four to six feet above the fairway, the middle portion is a deep swale in the biarritz vein; so deep, in fact, that a pin cut at the bottom of it is barely visible from certain places 130 yards away for the non-discerning taste-tester who couldn’t find the correct angle. I’m speaking from experience.

The spectacular eighth green, and the swale-bottom pin we were treated to in the morning sessions. The grounds crew, led by the incredible Brent Roberson, re-cut us a fresh “eff you” pin on every green while we ate lunch. Photo by Rob Collins.

Just when you think you’ve reached the richest part of the journey, Chef Collins serves his signature crème brûlée and double espresso to get your heart pumping one last time. The short ninth is a mega-redan style par 3. In many circles, an ending par 3 might be deemed anticlimactic–the unfortunate result of a poor routing that left the architect jammed up coming back to the clubhouse. This is not such a hole.

Instead, the ninth is a very intentional confectionery delight that caps off the crescendo building since your opening tee shot was struck a mere 10 feet away from from the final green. This dessert presents in a small dish, but below the crunchy surface of a perfectly crisped top layer, you will find a sweet, creamy center of the green that, depending on the day’s pin location, offers anywhere from a “better than usual” to “exceptional” chance to write a closing 1 or 2 on the card. If that’s not enough to leave you feeling satisfied, I can’t help you.

The extravagant design features, the cult following, and the off-the-map location could all lend itself to the type of pretentiousness one might typically associate with a haute cuisine establishment of such vaunted credentials and reputation. But maybe the most pleasant surprise of all is that nothing about the place is remotely stuffy, trendy, or chic. From the simplicity of the “clubhouse” to the lack of a driving range or shortgame practice area, to the two-figure price tag for an all-day pass, and beyond to the almost 

genuine southern hospitality of the staff, the ethos of Sweetens Cove is pure golf and pure fun.

Perhaps nothing exemplifies this better than Patrick’s jovial commentary as we stood on the first tee ready to hit our opening tee shots of the Thirsty Cup. As we watched touring pro Justin Hueber take a line so high and so far left off the first tee that left us all shaking our heads in disbelief, one of the uninitiated among us asked whether it might be out of bounds. Patrick immediately put such an inquiry to rest.

“There’s no out of bounds, junior!” he shouted with exuberance through the thick cloud of ever-present smoke billowing from his lips. “This is Sweetens Cove…it’s all fuckin’ lateral. Been a rule since day one!” And if there was any doubt, that local rule, along with a few others, are spelled out clearly on the perfectly simple and elegant scorecard.

“Been a rule since day one.” Photo by Rob Collins.

The overall vibe of the place brought out the most extroverted side of everyone there. Among my favorite memories, I was fortunate enough to not only play a few loops on a spectacular track, but also forge some new friendships along the way. In my opening match partnered with Travis Hill, we served up some delicious ham-and-eggs for breakfast, quenched with a Miller Lite or three.

In my second and third matches, I combined with Adam Sarson to form a 3/4ths Canadian team. Unfortunately, we also took 3 or 4 putts on just about every green, especially in the three-club challenge where neither of us thought to bring a damn putter. We had a hard time finding our footing against the thirstiest man himself, Big Play Ray, who did his best “Patrick Reed Carrying Jordan Spieth” impression with two different partners to dampen our chances of winning (but not our attitudes).

My last teammate and I formed a redux of the San Antonio Spurs’ “Twin Towers” days, as I played Tim Duncan to Big Randy’s David Robinson. I don’t remember much about how that match went, other than we all played poorly, KVV was too disheveled to muster a single Gary Player impression, and I enjoyed every second of getting to know a yet another kindred golfing spirit as my playing partner. Going three for three in that department, I couldn’t have been luckier.

If there is one karmic give-and-take about Sweetens Cove, it is that the same mountains framing the property, which lend both their serenity and their swirling winds, eagerly steal the a final few minutes of twilight from those who just want to traverse one or two more holes. But when it arrived–bathing the ground with its tantalizing long shadows cast under the sparse evergreens, ratcheting the marigold and saffron glow of the wispy grasses up to eleven, and revealing every subtle ebb and flow of the rolling terrain ordinarily lost in the high noon sun–the golden hour was otherworldly.

The fourth hole, KING, showing off its evening attire. Photo by Chris Solomon.

Concerned with waning daylight, the Thirsty Cup captains sent each two-hole singles match out paired with another match for a foursome, with all the rest of our crew following in a caravan of carts, drones, and phones. By this point, few among us knew the score (Team Tron’s 

), the number of beers collectively consumed (probably best measured by the case), or the number of holes we’d be able to play before the day came to an end. We just knew we had to keep playing until we couldn’t even see the ball at address. And maybe beyond.

As the matches played on, a palpable melancholy crept up behind us as the realization set in that with each hole out, we were another stroke closer to the end. I don’t remember who won what match–though I’m sure the participants of each will recall every shot. After halving the seventh with pars, I blasted my drive on the eighth hole to mere half-wedge range, but couldn’t check my pitch to a halt on the left-side table top of the nasty biarritz green with my second. I was then presented with a near impossible up-and-down from six feet below the green surface, which might as well have been six feet under ground, going up against a perfectly played hole by Ryan Young. I predictably lost the hole, but I’m pretty sure the Cup had already been clinched by someone much thirstier than I.

Shortly after, darkness descended. The dusky gloom did not discourage anyone in the group from trying a few heroic 250 yard shots from the first fairway into a straight on, traditional high-low-high biarritz angle of the eighth green–one of the many off the menu, secret holes that you’ve surely heard about. We all took turns trying to find a flattish surface on which to peg it by cell phone flashlight glow, only to give each ball a serious rip into hazy night, probably never to be seen again. Unless you fancy yourself a pro golfer like Zac Blair. And you hit it to like…6 feet.

As the last few hoots and hollers rang out between the distinctive, metallic clank of each three wood, my cart was positioned close enough to Rob’s to eavesdrop on the conversation he was having with Patrick. I could tell by their tone that even for the two of them, having seen the thousands of golden hours, thousands of first timers’ jaw-dropped faces drawn of equal parts glee and awe and wonder, even this day–with this crew–had to be among the all timers. Then, they made it explicit.

“We need to change our business model,” Patrick said, only half-jokingly. “Just private events from here on out.”

“We do, but only if they’re like this one,” Rob replied. “Days like these are why we built Sweetens Cove.”

Unquenchable Thirst: A First-Timer&#8217;s Journey to Sweetens Cove

Sponsor Exemptions are a hot topic in the golf world these days on the heels of Steph Curry’s appearance at last year’s Fannie Ellie Mae Classic on the Web.com Tour and Tony Romo’s upcoming spot in the field at the Corales Punta Cana Resort and Club Championship on the PGA Tour. Critics of these exemptions point to the more deserving players who aren’t getting a spot.

In my opinion, those gripes are misplaced, as these unrestricted sponsor spots usually never go to the guys who are next on the list or to promising up-and-comers. Tournament organizers can do pretty much whatever they want with them (there are also restricted spots, which have more strings attached). Agents often call in favors (often leveraging the appearance of a star client who 

 in the field to demand a spot for one of their lesser-known players – not a great look). Tournaments sometimes give a spot to a local club pro who has game (no issue with that). Past champs on hard times plead for a spot – Mike Weir gets starts, past-PGA Tour champs who are within a few years of the Champions Tour get spots to prep (shoutout Frank Lickliter 2.0), etc. Those are the beneficiaries of many of most of these spots.

Let’s look at the case of Steph Curry – one of the best athletes on the planet. He sold a ton of tickets, got people pumped up about a Web event about which they’d otherwise be unaware, helped keep the sponsor happy on a tour that needs more sponsors (especially for events in California and the Southeast) AND he held his own in the process? That seems like a huge win for the tour, and the sport at large.

Is there a line? Absolutely. But thus far the organizers have used discretion as to the celebrity element (though 

). Although there are certainly whispers of some under-the-table dealings with spots at certain events (not dissimilar to the wink-wink appearance fees on the Euro Tour), recipients of those spots have at least been qualified (until last week).

Esta es la otra Colombia ?? de la que me siento orgulloso ????mientras los entendidos del golf colombiano celebraban un mal golpe y se burlaban durante la primera ronda , estos Valientes niños defendían mi trabajo y mi nombre, se enfrentanron contra aquellos que tomaban vídeos y los hacían vírales para generar destrucción, ojalá el gremio del golf colombiano que me atacó tanto por jugar mal y por todas las razones que desconozco, aprendan de esta Colombia , felicitaciones Valientes ?????

 (@lamaquinajcb) on Feb 11, 2018 at 6:23am PST

Now let’s look at last week’s Web Tour stop down in Bogota, the 

which failed to use any discretion whatsoever. You may have seen some tweets about Julio Bell (pictured above, and better known colloquially by the self-glossed nickname “La Maquina”). Bell entered the event under suspicious circumstances and proceeded to shoot 93 in the first round and 105 in the second round. Below are Bell’s autumnal scorecards from both rounds:

 There was talk of La Maquina blaming his high scores on the fact that he couldn’t hit driver on the range (facility tops out at 220 yards). Digging deeper, it appears “La Maquina” 

(make sure to click through to the photo gallery; some gems in there). He recently underwent a massive equipment change, swapping out the Titleist sticks 

 and joining the battalion of PXG troops. He also participated (albeit as an amateur) in the venerable Diamond Resorts Invitational event a few months ago.

Bell claims to have picked up golf as a passion four years ago and thusly moved to Florida to train with “Coach Joey D,” who trains Dustin Johnson and Brooks Koepka, among others. 

sheds light on his life in and around the South Florida golf community. Throughout Friday there were widespread rumors abound that Bell had bought his way into the tournament by way of a sizable fee AND that he’d also be in the field for the aforementioned Punta Cana event.

Then, after his 105 on Friday, Bell declined to turn in his scorecard and went AWOL.

Word from my friends in the scoring trailer is that Julio “The Machine” Bell wouldn’t turn in a card after that 105 and got DQ’d. If you’re gonna shoot it, own it.



— Edward Loar Tracker-When Birdies & BBQ Collide?? (@EdLoarTracker) 

After the social interwebs predictably erupted with the no-card news, Bell issued a press release on Sunday via instagram in Spanish and made sure to include his various social outlets plus his WhatsApp number (both original and translation below):

On Sunday I reached out to Mr. Bell via WhatsApp for comment:

Bell’s recollection didn’t quite jive with what I’d heard, so I reached out to three well-placed sources who were on the ground in Bogota and witnessed the saga play out. They confirmed the following:

After he didn’t turn in his card, officials searched the premises for him, to no avail.

On Saturday morning the promoter in charge of the event located Bell, who relayed that he wanted to meet with Web.com Tour officials (who simply wanted his card).

Sources attributed Bell’s sudden change of heart to the realization that scores were posted online anyway, and would display despite the NC/DQ.

Bell then attempted to come back onsite anyway but was denied entry to Country Club de Bogota.

Officials have contacted Florida State Golf Association to investigate how his club validated his scores (he was listed as a +1.3 handicap).

The tournament promoter adamantly expressed (to media, officials and players alike) that no monies exchanged hands for the spot in the field. This claim was met with skepticism.

I expected this post to summarize a straightforward bit of absurdity, yet it yielded both troubling results and impassioned feedback from players I reached out to. To put it bluntly, guys are pissed.

Circling back to the recent discussion of sponsor exemptions, and specifically that of Curry, many critics cited the integrity of the competition as a concern for letting a celebrity compete. However, Web officials ran the Curry deal through the highest levels of Tour hierarchy, vetted his game, and grouped him with guys who confirmed they’d like to play with him and endure the extra attention.

 on the same tour and then failing to crack 90, all while playing with two legitimate professionals who were randomly paired with him while trying to earn a living. That is the very definition of compromising the integrity of the competition. Those two unwitting participants, 

, are both promising players who are fronting sizable expenses each week to make a living on the Web.com Tour (Stanger fresh out of UVA with a storied collegiate career, Knous out of Colorado School of Mines and having bounced around for a bit between the mini-tours and with partial Web status this year). Said expenses were abnormally high over the past month with events in the Bahamas, Panama, and Colombia. While some might say that this is the stuff you have to deal with on the mini-tours, I’d argue that the Web.com Tour isn’t a mini-tour. The top 62 players out there last year earned at least six figures before expenses. Add to that the carrot of a promotion to the PGA Tour and this is as close as you can get to the big show.

That both Stanger and Knous proceeded to make the cut is staggering. Stanger finished T20, banking nearly $7K, and Knous finished T16, taking home nearly $11K. Both were good sports about it on Twitter, but neither should’ve never been put in that position to begin with.

 tour event with a guy who shoots 93, 105 the first two rounds. I get sick for round 1, then make the cut on the number, and shoot -5 on the weekend for a t-20 finish.



— Jimmy Stanger (@jimmy_stanger) 

He was kind, played pretty fast, and stayed relatively out of the way. We did have a seizable crowd who clapped every time he hit the golf ball. Otherwise, I would say he hit some shots a guy who shoots 105 would hit.



— Jimmy Stanger (@jimmy_stanger) 

Shout out to my friends at Country Club de Bogotá, they’re the best in the business! Glad I could take advantage of the early season start and battle to a top-20 finish. 

, a member of Country Club de Bogota, reached out to express his dismay at how this incident reflects upon the relatively nascent golf community in Colombia and to offer some background on how this all went down:

“This week’s show with ‘La Maquina’ demonstrated to the world (again) how we handle things for money. As a golfer I am still fighting to make things right, what happened this week was all about money and not golf.



“I am 21 years old, finishing my undergrad in the Bay Area at at Saint Mary’s College in California. I am a scratch golfer and basically eat, sleep and breath golf. With a friend of mine we are starting a blog to show the world the real golf talent in Colombia. The organizer of the tournament is German Calle Jr. He gave Country Club de Bogota a spot (I participated in the qualifier, which was won by Daniel Faccini), gave spots to two professionals (Ricardo Celia and Sebastian Muñoz) and one to Mr. La Maquina. La Maquina has spent a lot of money promoting his fake profile and attends PGA events to take pictures with pro golfers so that people back in Colombia think he is actually a part of that group. He also paid different Colombian media outlets to show that image of him. Now they are trying to get away with it by saying that Julio Bell was simply “invited” to the tournament.

The other recipients of exemptions finished as follows: Sebastian Muñoz (69-69-75-70, T47); (Ricardo Celia (75-69, MC); Daniel Faccini (74-76, MC)

I reached out to another member of Country Club de Bogota, who confirmed the facts put forth by Durán and affirmed the sentiments he espoused. A quick google search yielded 

 Mr. Bell has received in his native country. Digging deeper into the recesses of Colombian Golf Twitter, there is a dedicated #GrowTheGame cohort who despise the message this sends about golf in their country:

Increible que en este pais el profesional en formacion que mejor 2017 tuvo como lo es Nicolas Echavarria no tenga cupo para el Web de Bogota y un pedazo de chambon como lo es Julio Bell si.
La corrupcion esta a todos los niveles en Colombia.



— Esteban Restrepo (@ERestrepo17) 

(translation: Its incredible how in this country the best player of 2017, Nicolas Echavarria didn’t get the spot in the Web.com held at CCB and a piece of crap like Julio Bell did. Corruption is in all levels of Colombia.)

Creo que todos los golfistas del pais coincidimos en la misma opinion de Julio Bell. Pero el que si pelo el cobre esta semana es el Sr. German Calle Jr. Que habla y habla de como el crece el golf en Colombia y esta semana se vendio y vendio a los golfistas de este pais por $$$



— Esteban Restrepo (@ERestrepo17) 

(translation: I think that all golfers in the country have the same opinion of Julio Bell. But the one who paid it all this week was Mr. German Calle Jr. He talks and talks about how golf in Colombia is growing and all he did this week was to sell himself and the golfers of this country for $$$)

Naturally, I turned my attention to Mr. German Calle, the tournament organizer/promoter, whose Twitter profile reads as follows: “Golf Entrepreneur/President of Golf Link.” GolfLink also plays some sort of role in putting on the aforementioned 

Corales Punta Cana Resort & Club Championship, 

as well as the now defunct Servientrega Championship, a Web Event played in ’15 and ’16 at TPC Cartagena.

GolfLink was honored with the Web.com Tour’s President’s Award in 2016

, given annually to “the tournament of the year.” In addition, the feedback I’ve gathered from Web Tour alums and current players supports that acclaim and they say the crowds come out in droves and that it would be one of the top tier Web events in the United States. While the Web Tour has thus far elected to accept the negative chicanery that comes along with an otherwise stellar event, a deeper look into the inner-workings of this event may be in short order. Tour leadership made definite strides for 2018 and listened to player feedback (in terms of consolidating the schedule, easing cross-country travel, and bringing on new sponsors/events). I imagine this issue might make it on the agenda of improvements for 2019.

As for who would’ve been a better recipient of Julio Bell’s spot – the runner-up of the ’17 Abierto de Colombia (a stalwart event on that PGA Tour Latinoamerica circuit and the country’s national open) springs to mind. That player, 

 would’ve been a fantastic addition to the field and a player of interest to the fans.

I reached out to Mr. Calle to ask about payment, handicap verification and the process for selecting participants. Mr. Calle has not responded as of yet. I also reached out to a spokesman for the Web.com Tour, who politely declined official comment. I did dig into the Tour’s policy on exemptions, which states that they are at the sole discretion of the individual tournament provided the player meets the handicap index requirement of 0.0. In this case, Mr. Bell’s +1.3 index at 

 (the Four Seasons Orlando Resort’s course, designed in 2014 by The Faz) passed the objective measure. Of course, there’s always the subjective element that the tournament could’ve employed when a guy who calls himself “The Machine” shows up and proceeds to look like a guy who can’t break 90 during the practice rounds (I’m told there is precedent for that on the Champions Tour).

We will keep this article updated with any new developments as necessary. (Awaiting comment from the Florida State Golf Association’s Director of GHIN Services, as well as the head golf professional at Tranquilo Golf Club.)

Articles

"Comets"

Rory, Tiger, top players agree on vision for PGA Tour changes

Young Hitters: Welcoming Lakareber Abe

Young Hitters: Welcoming Madelene Sagström

VIDEO: Zac Blair unveils his plans for the Buck Club at The Ringer at Sweetens Cove

Unquenchable Thirst: A First-Timer’s Journey to Sweetens Cove

La historia de La Máquina

Camping Across Canada: David Wetterich’s Summer on the MacKenzie Tour

Fore Left: The Story of No Laying Up

Fictional Golf Character Power Rankings

A Window into No Laying Up

Dublin, Ireland Golf Trip, Part III: Portmarnock Golf Club

Dublin, Ireland Golf Trip, Part II: The K-Club

Dublin, Ireland Golf Trip, Part I: The Island Golf Club

What Does "Good for the Game" Even Mean?

Eye on CBS (an intervention)

The Escape from Pyeontaek

WGC Match Play: Midway Musings from the Gallery

Articles

"Comets"

Rory, Tiger, top players agree on vision for PGA Tour changes

Young Hitters: Welcoming Lakareber Abe

Young Hitters: Welcoming Madelene Sagström

VIDEO: Zac Blair unveils his plans for the Buck Club at The Ringer at Sweetens Cove

Unquenchable Thirst: A First-Timer&#8217;s Journey to Sweetens Cove

La historia de La Máquina

Camping Across Canada: David Wetterich’s Summer on the MacKenzie Tour

Fore Left: The Story of No Laying Up

Fictional Golf Character Power Rankings

A Window into No Laying Up

Dublin, Ireland Golf Trip, Part III: Portmarnock Golf Club

Dublin, Ireland Golf Trip, Part II: The K-Club

Dublin, Ireland Golf Trip, Part I: The Island Golf Club

What Does "Good for the Game" Even Mean?

Eye on CBS (an intervention)

The Escape from Pyeontaek

WGC Match Play: Midway Musings from the Gallery

Unquenchable Thirst: A First-Timer’s Journey to Sweetens Cove