In response to Criss, Josh, Vaughn, and others noting the unique camaraderie of the Mashie.
Every late summer since 2012, I look up and realize the golf season is starting to dwindle. Days are getting shorter, the air gets just a little cooler, and a tinge of sadness creeps in knowing that winter is coming. But as that sadness arrives, the joy of knowing that the Mashie has finally drawn near arrives with it.
The one year I missed was 2017 - the previous visit to Iowa. I was really looking forward to that one, but life got busy. Work got exhausting. New home construction created a mountainous to-do list and tons of stress. I played two tournaments in July that year. I was playing well! After the second tournament, I put the clubs away. I didn't touch them again for months. I withdrew from the Mashie, and from golf, and thought seriously about selling the clubs and dumping the game altogether. Too much time, too much money.
I played sporadically in 2018, and waffled on whether I'd go to Minnesota or not. But I did. And I found something there. I found it in two pre-Mashie rounds at White Bear with Shelman and Matty B. I found it at Midland Hills Friday morning walking along with Dan Kelly and TK. I found it at Northland, rain or shine, freezing or blazing. It wasn't just about the golf. I was rusty and didn't play particularly well. But there was so much joy in the walk, in the competition of a friendly match, and around tables at dinner and in halfway houses where we sought shelter from the elements. I reconnected with old friends, and met new ones. I felt the brotherhood again.
When I got home, I realized what had been missing wasn't great architecture, or great play, but that unique social connection that golf fosters. I joined my home club. The three years since have been my favorite golfing years of my life.
When Josh talks about how he's spent a few years tackling life responsibilities, I relate to the discipline and trudgery of that journey. And when he talks about the joy of getting in a weekend with "the boys," I relate to that deeply too. In a real way, the Mashie has transformed my golfing life over and over. My wife used to call you guys "a bunch of dorks from the internet." She still does, but she also recognizes about a dozen names now, and I think she's almost forgotten that we ever didn't know each other personally.
When I tease Criss about his midlife crisis, it's partly because I like busting balls (which is why Mashie Saturday Night is one of my favorite annual evenings). But it's also because the form of his midlife crisis illustrates the guy that he really is. Some guys act out by heading for a (hypothetical) BYOB strip club and catching crabs from a dancer (literally) named Mickle in the Flying J bathroom. Criss thinks of ways he can be more involved with his daughters. As the guy his wife proclaimed to be the worst influence among his friends, I have to remind him that he should play more golf. But damn if I don't respect the priorities he actually holds.
Y'all are my people, and I'm honored to be yours. I literally hope to see all of you sooner than next year. Don't be strangers if you get near the Ohio Valley. And otherwise, I so look forward to meeting up again in 2022 and beyond.