17th Hole, Quail Hollow

Pulling into the (wrong) parking lot, I was already nervous. I, like one of our playing partners Chris, have no problem speaking to a thousand people. But I’d never hit a golf ball in front of a real gallery, and certainly I’d never been introduced to do so.

As I chatted it up with the parking attendant (again in the wrong lot), he told me to turn around and go toward the clubhouse. As I put it into reverse, a car came around the corner and our cars kissed.

I got out, thinking to myself what a heckuva way to start the day. But what do you know, the cars were perfectly fine! Literally no scratches, just a bent front license plate for the other car. I bent it back, handed my card to the man in case the bumper fell off tomorrow, and we parked and headed for the range.

An hour later, I stood on the first tee with my teammates, all of who had hit their drives. I could not feel my hands, they were shaking so much. My wife would say later, “I’ve never seen him like that.” I took the club back, and consciously realized I was closing my eyes. I’m not sure what the heck I was doing, but I swung anyway.

I missed everything. Let me repeat in another way: I whiffed. Struck out. Suh-wing, batter! All that stuff.

This happened right after they announced my name, hundreds of people watching (including my wife Becky, a neighbor, plus co-worker/caddie Kasey). I could have been pretty darned embarrassed, but I still had to hit. I did actually make contact the 2nd time and had a rough first hole, literally still nerve-shaking the whole way.

Our pro, Webb Simpson — who is a heckuva nice guy by the way — said something very nice to me, as did his caddie William. The gallery came up to me along the ropes and supported me. But the ones that meant the most right then were a quick kiss from my wife, then the inner circle of our team and caddies helping me shake off the heebie-jeebies (technical term).

The day changed for me almost immediately on the 2nd hole. I made a good swing, then a downhill, sidehill 12-foot putt that was a par (net birdie) that was the team’s best score on the hole. [Break for the Pro-am rules: everyone played their own ball all day, and the best individual score per hole -- with handicap -- ended up as the team's single score for the hole].

Everyone on the team had moments like this through the day… recovering from a bad shot to hit a good one, or pulling a hole out for the team. Admittedly, none were quite as disastrous as mine, but hey — these were our clients and I had to make sure I took the brunt

Memories of the day include Ken hitting a shot to like five feet on one of the hardest holes and his tee shot on 17. Roddey even carried our pro through some tough stretches. And that par/net eagle on 18 won the tournament for us, Chris. I also learned details about work and personal lives, such as Ken’s trips back and forth from Florida to Charlotte. And all of us have hopeful, cautious signs we’re working with in the marketplace.

All in all, our collective attitudes carried us to a collective great day. And for good measure, when all the scores from all the team were totaled, we had won the Quail Hollow Championship Pro-Am.

The old cliche may be true — “it’s not how you start, but how you finish.” And I’ll add: “your attitude and those who support you can make the difference.”

Update: Our neighbors went to the real tournament on Friday, and based on our story decided to follow Webb around for a couple holes. If you’ve checked any scores, you’d have noticed he wasn’t having a great day by his standards, and he could have been sulking and not engaged with the crowd. As he waited to tee off, he noticed the neighbors’ nine-year-old and, out of nowhere, tossed him a ball and a tee.

It’s important to know that Webb had no idea these were my neighbors — as far as he knew, these were simply folks out there having a great time at the course.

What a class act. Webb’s got a huge fan in me.