It's funny how you are oblivious to things until they affect your life. Every year I play in some charity golf events. It's pretty much the same thing. You get a day of golf at a nice course, a tax write-off, and if things work out a nice fat gift certificate to the pro shop. I'm always aware of what the tournament is benefitting but it is always the last thing you think about. If a buddy called and said "Hey there's a 2-man on Thursday at Pinnacle for $100, you in?" I'd just look at the checkbook and my calendar to see if I could play. Since all tournaments on weekdays are for charity, I know it is a benefit tournament, but I doubt 1 out of 10 times I'd even ask what the charity was.
With everything happening in our life right now, I've become super pink ribbon aware. It's strange how many people you see wearing pins or signs at shops or even on stationary we've received. I saw a flyer the other day with a pink ribbon. I picked it up and it was an entry form for Rally for the Cure, a charity golf tournament benefiting the Susan G Komen foundation. I called Mika and he stopped by Pinnacle Country Club and signed us up. I thought it was cool to play in a tournament benefiting breast cancer research and cleared my Wednesday afternoon calendar.
It wasn't until I pulled up and a huge, pink blow up arch was over the clubhouse drive that I had any deeper thought than it just being 'cool' to play in this tournament. Standing there at my car I realized that this tournament was being played for my family. This wasn't a tournament for me to get out of a day of appointments. It wasn't a good excuse to play Pinnacle for only the 3rd time. This tournament was to raise money so the next generation doesn't have to go through what my wife is going through. It's being played so husbands don't have to hold their wives in the middle of the night while they cry themselves to sleep. This tournament was about hope for a better tomorrow.
Before the tournament we sat in the dining room eating lunch while the women players came off the course. A couple of groups stopped at our table and thanked us for playing. One lady told us how happy she was the mens' field of 60 teams was full for the first time. Before we went to our teeboxes a man gave a speech about what we were playing for and to play hard and play well but at least take some time on the course to think about why we were there and to realize 1 in 8 women will get this terrible thing. I've heard dozens of these speeches. All I could think was I wanted to just shout out to the assembled men that he was talking about my family, because I know the vast majority were doing what I always do. Nod their head, think about it for a few minutes, and then play golf.
I think Mika and I took a lot of what he said to heart. We didn't start out with our usual talk of what number we think it will take to win. We didn't seem overly concerned when we started scrambling for pars on the first 4 holes. Likewise, we never got too excited when we hit our stride and started throwing darts at the flags and went on an extended birdie barrage. We stopped at each hole that had a group of women in pink shirts and spoke to them and told them it really was our pleasure to play. They thanked us anyways. We just shrugged our shoulders when the men we were playing with kept encouraging us that they felt we had a chance to win if we continued to play well. We never even had our little math session where we try to find the birdies in the last few holes and which hole we can steal a bird at. We just played.
We did have 1 moment on the course where our foursome discussed the reason we were there. On 1 of the par 3's a group of women in pink were there to watch and see if someone got a hole-in-one. The prize was a new car and a Rolex watch. While we waited to hit, one lady asked if breast cancer had affected us directly. I told her about Jenna and her upcoming surgeries. She was real perky and bubbly and I could tell she wasn't ready to hear that. She looked like I'd thrown cold water on her. The group of women all gave words of encouragement and said they'd pray for us. I'll give the lady credit for not being deterred. She asked the guys playing with us the same question while McFadden and I went up the teebox to hit. The younger of the 2 guys, 24 years young, told us how his mother was diagnosed with breast cancer at the age of 31 and died at the age of 34, 2 days after his sixth birthday. On the next hole, I told him I was sorry about his mother. He asked me what Jenna's plan of care was. When I told him bilateral masectomy he said, "Good. Get that out of her body and let her raise her son." I really thought I might cry. If we weren't looking at a 40-footer for eagle I may have.
I don't know if it was the relaxed way we played or not, but at the end of the day Mika and I did shoot the magic number. We beat the 59 other teams and won the tournament and got the congratulatory hand shakes...and beers. I'd also won the long drive hole and got a new driver for my efforts. I got more congratulatory hand shakes...and more beers. I felt pretty good but I still was just happy to play. I didn't think it was a big deal to have won until I got into my car and called Jenna on my way home. She'd had a pretty special day in Texarkana where a group of her friends and family had thrown her a surprise 'Think Pink' party to announce their 'Walk for the Cure' team named in her honor. "Jenna's Hens and Friends" gave her a very special day that I'll let her tell about later. When she finally ran out of breath she asked me if I had fun playing golf. I told her we won. She didn't believe me at first. When I told I was serious she started yelling to her friends that we had won the 'Rally for the Cure.' She came back and her voice was thick with emotion, love, and gratitude. She said it was the perfect end to a perfect day and she was so happy she could burst. That's when it became special to me that we won. Until then I swear I'd just been happy to have played and been a part of the tournament. I'd spent my day with a great friend, playing a sport we love, and helping out a cause that I just now get. However, when the day came to an end I listened to my sweet wife's voice and I got caught up in her emotions and I let them carry me away.
With everything happening in our life right now, I've become super pink ribbon aware. It's strange how many people you see wearing pins or signs at shops or even on stationary we've received. I saw a flyer the other day with a pink ribbon. I picked it up and it was an entry form for Rally for the Cure, a charity golf tournament benefiting the Susan G Komen foundation. I called Mika and he stopped by Pinnacle Country Club and signed us up. I thought it was cool to play in a tournament benefiting breast cancer research and cleared my Wednesday afternoon calendar.
It wasn't until I pulled up and a huge, pink blow up arch was over the clubhouse drive that I had any deeper thought than it just being 'cool' to play in this tournament. Standing there at my car I realized that this tournament was being played for my family. This wasn't a tournament for me to get out of a day of appointments. It wasn't a good excuse to play Pinnacle for only the 3rd time. This tournament was to raise money so the next generation doesn't have to go through what my wife is going through. It's being played so husbands don't have to hold their wives in the middle of the night while they cry themselves to sleep. This tournament was about hope for a better tomorrow.
Before the tournament we sat in the dining room eating lunch while the women players came off the course. A couple of groups stopped at our table and thanked us for playing. One lady told us how happy she was the mens' field of 60 teams was full for the first time. Before we went to our teeboxes a man gave a speech about what we were playing for and to play hard and play well but at least take some time on the course to think about why we were there and to realize 1 in 8 women will get this terrible thing. I've heard dozens of these speeches. All I could think was I wanted to just shout out to the assembled men that he was talking about my family, because I know the vast majority were doing what I always do. Nod their head, think about it for a few minutes, and then play golf.
I think Mika and I took a lot of what he said to heart. We didn't start out with our usual talk of what number we think it will take to win. We didn't seem overly concerned when we started scrambling for pars on the first 4 holes. Likewise, we never got too excited when we hit our stride and started throwing darts at the flags and went on an extended birdie barrage. We stopped at each hole that had a group of women in pink shirts and spoke to them and told them it really was our pleasure to play. They thanked us anyways. We just shrugged our shoulders when the men we were playing with kept encouraging us that they felt we had a chance to win if we continued to play well. We never even had our little math session where we try to find the birdies in the last few holes and which hole we can steal a bird at. We just played.
We did have 1 moment on the course where our foursome discussed the reason we were there. On 1 of the par 3's a group of women in pink were there to watch and see if someone got a hole-in-one. The prize was a new car and a Rolex watch. While we waited to hit, one lady asked if breast cancer had affected us directly. I told her about Jenna and her upcoming surgeries. She was real perky and bubbly and I could tell she wasn't ready to hear that. She looked like I'd thrown cold water on her. The group of women all gave words of encouragement and said they'd pray for us. I'll give the lady credit for not being deterred. She asked the guys playing with us the same question while McFadden and I went up the teebox to hit. The younger of the 2 guys, 24 years young, told us how his mother was diagnosed with breast cancer at the age of 31 and died at the age of 34, 2 days after his sixth birthday. On the next hole, I told him I was sorry about his mother. He asked me what Jenna's plan of care was. When I told him bilateral masectomy he said, "Good. Get that out of her body and let her raise her son." I really thought I might cry. If we weren't looking at a 40-footer for eagle I may have.
I don't know if it was the relaxed way we played or not, but at the end of the day Mika and I did shoot the magic number. We beat the 59 other teams and won the tournament and got the congratulatory hand shakes...and beers. I'd also won the long drive hole and got a new driver for my efforts. I got more congratulatory hand shakes...and more beers. I felt pretty good but I still was just happy to play. I didn't think it was a big deal to have won until I got into my car and called Jenna on my way home. She'd had a pretty special day in Texarkana where a group of her friends and family had thrown her a surprise 'Think Pink' party to announce their 'Walk for the Cure' team named in her honor. "Jenna's Hens and Friends" gave her a very special day that I'll let her tell about later. When she finally ran out of breath she asked me if I had fun playing golf. I told her we won. She didn't believe me at first. When I told I was serious she started yelling to her friends that we had won the 'Rally for the Cure.' She came back and her voice was thick with emotion, love, and gratitude. She said it was the perfect end to a perfect day and she was so happy she could burst. That's when it became special to me that we won. Until then I swear I'd just been happy to have played and been a part of the tournament. I'd spent my day with a great friend, playing a sport we love, and helping out a cause that I just now get. However, when the day came to an end I listened to my sweet wife's voice and I got caught up in her emotions and I let them carry me away.
