Pete,
Thank you for posting this story.
There have been many comments on this, but the one I hope to shed light on is the one where folks question why, of all the things one might want to make amends for, cheating on a round of golf could possibly make the list. Some have suggested this is implausible, but I think, given the circumstances, it is very plausible.
Most of us, if we are generally good, are generally good most of the time. Sometimes, when the consequences are minor, we break the rules. I drive over the double lines on a tight curve on my commute, for example. I've taken mulligans and reported the score excluding the botched shot. As the consequences, and benefits grow, the equation changes. In scrambles, I don't cheat, and I look with disdain at teammates who are tempted to shave a stroke off a short putt, or take a gimme. The consequences in the great scheme of things are still small, as are the benefits, but now, I would be hurting someone else, the other competitors, and that trumps all. The temptation is there, but making the right choice is easy.
For many of us, it is a rare day when our choices, and the temptations they conjure, take us far from the middling. The depths of our fibre and conviction are not tested, and while we believe that should a situation arise we would act honorably, it is rare that that belief is challenged in deeds. For some, that challenge may never come.
For this man in the story, apparently, that challenge came on the golf course. A US Open qualifier is a big deal. The potential benefits are great, and in a he-said, she-said situation, the risk of being caught out a cheater, small. Here, in front of him, was a very real test of his convictions, of his fibre, of his beliefs about himself. In an instant, he was thrust onto a crucible of character, his very character forced to decide between the painful admission that would move him away from his dream, or a cowardly assertion that would seemingly bring the dream, to qualify, closer. The test was just a matter of minutes. He chose to cheat. He lied to cheat. His lie was not found out. The cheat succeeded. The play went on. The test, he failed.
What didn't end, obviously, was the knowledge that he had failed the more important challenge to his beliefs, a challenge he may have never had to face again. He now knew he had failed that test. Now, he had to live with the fact that his moral constitution had failed to live to the ideals he carried, that when it mattered, he had taken the cowards path. When the test appeared that challenged him to measure himself to his ideals, he abandoned those ideals.
Though I doubt they will engender death bed amends, I, like most of you, still think of the times that I've let myself down. One seemingly innocuous one: when in college, someone stopped me as I walked towards the union, and asked if I had a second. I answered, "no", and kept walking. I cowardly avoided helping someone for no reason, and I will never forget that. In fact, if I had helped him, I probably wouldn't remember it. Instead, now there's a little regret that revisits me, a regret that I would be that kind of person, and act that way. And I'd like to think a regret that I can lean on to be a better person, and more patient and giving.
So, Pete, thanks for sharing this tale. I hope that I can take from it something that will bolster my spine should a similar situation arise for me.
Dave