“All of a sudden, the dying man yelled for his wife, then went into cardiac arrest again. A paramedic said she had to make a decision now. I don’t know why, but I ran toward the woman.”
“I can take your daughter.”
“What?” the woman asked, stunned.
“I can take your daughter. You take care of your husband. I’m a stay-at-home dad with two young daughters. I promise she’ll be fine. You just take care of him. You’ve got to go. Don’t worry, she’s fine.”
“She stared at me for a second, then jumped in the ambulance, and they were gone.
“I turned to look at the little girl, and she was in tears, scared out of her mind. It hit me right then that her mother never even told her goodbye. I slowly walked up to her and bent down.
“Hi. My name is Mr. Hatfield. I’m so sorry about your father, and I’m sorry your mom had to leave, but I’m here for you. We are going to get through this together. Again, I’m Mr. Hatfield. What is your name?”
“Ava,” the little girl said, in between tears. “You’re a golfer. My dad likes you.”
“That’s right. I’m a golfer. Do I know your dad?”
“No,” Ava said, then started to cry again.
“What the hell is going on?” Randy asked. “We can’t take care of a kid. We’re playing in a PGA tournament, for Christ-sakes.”
“I realized that he had a point, and I may have crossed a huge line. I asked Greg if he minded having a little girl join our group.”
“I’d be honored to have to her, and I’m even more honored to be playing with you,” Greg answered instantly.
“Well, this is bullshit. I’m not caddying for a joke, and Travis, you’re turning into a complete joke. Do you even want to make the cut?”
“You know what, Randy, you’re right,” I said. “You shouldn’t caddy for me. Randy, you’re fired. I just got a new caddy. Ava.”
“You fucking asshole. You can’t fire me.”
“Then the coolest thing happened. Greg stepped up and cold-cocked Randy, a right to the jaw. The guy dropped like a stone.”
“He said you’re fired!” Gregg yelled, rubbing his now sore hand, then he composed himself. “Get off our tee box.”
“Picking himself up, Randy spit on the ground, then walked off, never to be seen again.”
“You ok?” Travis asked the little girl, wiping away a few of her tears.
“She shook her head yes. An official said it was time to play again. I told Ava to hold on for a second. I pulled my driver out of the bag, quickly lined it up, then swung.
“There was this tremendous roar from the crowd as my drive flew deep down the middle. It scared me when everyone erupted. Without noticing it, thousands of people surrounded us now. I mean thousands. The crowd had been so quiet as it grew, with everyone captivated by the heart attack, the little girl, and the punch. Plus, I was just focused on Ava and had forgotten about everything else.
“The whole gallery was emotionally attached to us now. Ava was like their child, and they all wanted to see was how I’d take care of her. They couldn’t believe that I drove one straight, after a forty-five minute wait, and without even stretching or taking a practice swing. Greg clapped a little himself, laughing incredulously at the scene.”
“This is really cool,” he said, then he hit a nice drive himself that brought another tremendous roar.
“Ava, you’re my caddy now,” I said, placing my carry bag over my shoulders.
“Yes, sir. What does that mean?”
“First, it means you hold my hand as I walk,” he said, reaching down, gently grabbing her little paw and starting to walk. “Then, I’m not sure. We will figure it all out as we go. Wait, I know. Second, you have to eat some ice cream.”
“I saw this ice cream stand, Dipping Dots, on the other side of the ropes and we headed for it. She wanted cookies n’ cream, I’ll never forget. I tried to pull my wallet out to pay, but a gallery member beat me to it, so some random woman bought Ava the Dipping Dots. We headed back through the crowd, all of them clapping and giving us high-fives, and onto the course again. Greg had already hit, so I got to my ball, quickly lined it up and smoothed a nine iron, the ball softly landing eight feet from the cup. Do you remember that roar after that shot, Ava? It was amazing, just so loud. Greg applauded. What a great guy!
“So we got to the green. Greg two-putted for par. I started lining up my eight-footer, when Ava wandered onto the green with her ice cream, asking me what was going on. I told her that I was putting and I needed to hit the ball in that hole over there.”
“Any advice?” Travis asked.
“Dad says don’t leave a putt short, but I don’t know what that means.”
“It means your dad is a genius. That is great advice, little girl.”
“So I lined it up, tapped it, and it gently rolled in for birdie. The crowd went wild. Even Ava went wild. She ran up and hugged me, carefully, not wanting to drop her Dipping Dots.
“Do that again,” Ava said, smiling, with an ice cream mustache.
“Incredibly, I did birdie the next hole, but I got a par on the fourth hole. Ava got mad at the par and told me to try harder. On the fifth hole, the par five, both Greg and I hit the green in two. I had a twenty-footer for eagle and drained the sucker. The crowd went crazy, and Ava jumped into my arms. Then, from about fourteen feet, Greg nailed his eagle putt also. People went nuts again, and Ava jumped into Greg’s arms! Greg literally started shedding a few tears. It was intense, just impossible to explain all the emotions that Greg and I had been through over the past two hours. And we still had thirteen holes to go.
“So we kept moving on. Greg made a few bogeys, but it was understandable. The noise and the people moving when he hit was terrible. They’d stay still and quiet for me, but as soon as I hit, they started running to see my next shot, not caring about Greg. But he was such a man and handled it with total class. You know, he never complained once. I swear, he enjoyed it. He was such a man. I par six, seven and eight, and I have no idea how I held it together. I think Ava grounded me and forced me to remain composed.
“Then the most amazing thing happened. Television coverage started at 3:00 pm and we became the main story on the course and in the world. The coverage began with Ava on my shoulders while I walked with my bag down the fairway, with the crowd singing ‘John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt.’ See, there was a wait on the ninth hole tee box, and Ava got bored. So I asked her what her favorite song was, and she said that she and her father always sang ‘John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt.’ Well, I had never heard the song before, so I asked her to sing it for me. She started singing this silly song in a little girl’s voice. It was so precious. Then the crowd near the tee box started singing with her, cuz they all knew it. Evidently, everybody knew the song but me. After we tee off, everyone began serenading us as we walked off the box. Greg and his caddy were even singing. Ava got up on my shoulders and was leading the crowd like a conductor, thousands of people on both sides of the fairway, singing their hearts out. It was so cool. And that was when TV coverage started, right during that first serenade. A few holes later, when the TV audience learned that everyone was singing to make Ava feel better because her father had a heart attack on the second hole, all their hearts melted and the ratings went through the roof. It is still most watched round of golf during the week in the history of the PGA Tour. The rest of the day, every hole we went to, people sang that silly song, and it was amazing. Ava loved it. I birdied that ninth hole to shoot 31 on the front.
“So I made another eagle on eleven and two more birds on thirteen and fourteen. We got to eighteen hole, and the crowd was huge, like twenty deep along the ropes. I pounded a drive, then put it to about twelve feet from the cup. Greg two putts for par.”
“What did Greg end up shooting?” Mac asked.
“Even par, 72. Pretty great with
everything that was going on that day. I think Greg enjoyed watching us more than playing. Golf was the last thing on his mind. He was a cool dude.”
“So then it was my turn to putt. I started lining up my twelve-footer for birdie, and all of a sudden, for the first time all day, Ava came over to help me. She went behind me, got on her knees, then gazed between my legs at the ball. I looked down and just laughed.”
“What do you think?” I asked.
“I think—,” she said, squinting now. “Well, I think—. Umm. You know what? I think you should hit the ball in the hole.”
“I couldn’t believe it. From the mouths of babes. It was so precious. Then I felt something come over me. An instant focus. I wanted this one. I lined it up, calmly pulled the putter back and drained it. The place went nuts, then Ava jumped into my arms again. I put her on my shoulders, and we waved goodbye to everybody. I swear, you could almost feel a sadness from the crowd, like they didn’t want it to end. After taking Ava down off my shoulders, I told her to go give Greg a hug. She jumped into his arms, and he almost started crying again.
“This is the greatest day of my golfing life,” Greg said, taking off his hat and shaking my hand. “Thank you for letting me be a part of all this.”
“Greg, I don’t think I’ve ever learned more about being a man than by watching you and how you handled yourself over the past two days. I’m proud to know you. I hope you’ll let me call you my friend.”
“Friends for life, young man. Friends for life.”
“I ended up shooting another 31 on the back; 62 for the day. I set the course record and ended minus eight for the tournament. I was in fourth place, three shots back of the leader.”
Chapter 21
The Lonely Beloved
“Ava and I walked off the putting green, turned in my scorecard, then some official told us to go to the press tent for reporters’ questions. Well, I had never done an interview before, and I knew I was going to hate it. But truthfully, it ended up being pretty fun.
“They walked us into the tent, packed with reporters from everywhere. There was a table up front with two chairs for us to sit on. However, we did things our way. I sat down, and Ava hopped on my lap. I put my cap on her and told everyone that Ava would be answering all the questions for us today. So they would ask a question, I would whisper an answer in Ava’s ear, and she would tell everyone what I said. Sometimes I answered seriously, but most of the time I told her a funny line. It was great. Ava loved it, laughed the whole time, and the reporters were eating it up. All of a sudden, Ava jumped out of my lap.
“Mommy!” she yelled and ran into her mother’s arms in the middle of the room.
“They hugged and cried, then they walked toward my table. I stood up, having no idea what was about to happen.”
“He’s going to live,” Ava’s mother said. “Gary is going to be alright. He’s got a long, hard road ahead of him, but my Gary is alive.”
“That’s great,” Travis said. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t do more. I’ve never felt more inadequate.”
“You were amazing,” she said, starting to cry. “If I hadn’t ridden with Gary in the ambulance, he might not be here today. You helped save his life, and you cared for my daughter. I’ll never be able to repay you. Thank you so much.”
“She hugged me, kissed my cheek, then started walking away with Ava. Then Ava stopped, ran back and jumped on the table, so she could be tall enough to put my hat back on my head. Ava hugged me, then she grabbed the microphone.”
“Mr. Hatfield is the greatest golfer in the world!”
“When Ava and her mother left the tent, reporters wanted to ask me some more questions, but I apologized, said it had been a long day, I was completely worn out, and I needed to go home. Surprisingly, they obliged and let me go. They even gave me a standing ovation as I left.
“I stepped out of the tent, and leaning against a pole on the other side of the ropes was Raleigh, the guy from the Houston City Amateur.”
“Wow, what a round,” he said, gently clapping for me. “A 62 in a PGA tournament. I knew you were good, but I didn’t know you were that good. And the little girl and everything. I just wanted to tell you how proud I am of you. You represented the muni-world well. Hell, I’m proud that I got second now.”
“After my Thursday round, I almost wished you had won the Amateur instead of me. I’m just glad that I didn’t blow up again today. How’s life, my friend?”
“Great,” Raleigh said, shaking my hand. “A friend of mine is in fourth place at The Houston Open. Life couldn’t be better.”
“Thanks, man,” I said, and then it hit me. “Hey, what are you doing tomorrow afternoon?”
“I’m gonna watch my buddy at The Houston Open. What else would I be doing?”
“Well, how about watching up close? I’m in need of a caddy, and I’d be honored if you’d carry my bag. They say it’s going to be windy tomorrow, and I know that you play well in the wind. If my memory serves me, you shot two under in the wind at the City Amateur, and I’d love to have your thoughts and expertise on my bag tomorrow. I’ll need you for both Saturday and Sunday, if you can do it.”
“Travis, are you serious?”
“Here you go,” I said, handing my golf bag to him. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning at Memorial Park, around 9:00 am. That way you don’t have to worry about the tournament parking.”
“I’ll wash the heads and grips tonight,” Raleigh said, carefully grabbing my bag. “And I’ll bring some snacks for the round. How about bananas and PB&J sandwiches?”
“That would be awesome. Hey, thank you, Raleigh. You’re a lifesaver. I can’t tell you how excited I am to have you on my bag. But I better go now.”
“Travis, you’re the best. Thank you for this.”
“On the way home, I started to fade. I swear I had never been that mentally tired before or after in my life. As I drove back to Mac’s apartment, I knew things would never be the same again, because I looked up and a news helicopter had followed me home. I turned on the TV news, even the national news, and I was everywhere. In just one afternoon, I had somehow become the most beloved golfer in the world. And with the 24-hour news cycle, it was spreading like wildfire. They kept playing Ava’s mom hugging me in the reporters’ tent over and over and over.
“It was crazy. All these people loved me now, but there I was, all alone in that apartment, and I just wanted to hug my girls and I couldn’t.”
Travis leaned back in the booth and sighed, pretty worn out from remembering and telling it all.
“I’ll go cook something,” Mac said, patting Travis’s knee approvingly, then marching and singing toward the kitchen. “John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt. His name is my name, too…”
Ava grabbed Travis’s hand and said, “Thank you. You turned the worst day of my life into the best day of my life.”
Chapter 22
The Third Round
They decided to take a break. Travis headed outside and walked in the middle of the parking lot, stretching and taking some deep breaths, probably trying to sober up a little before dinner. Ava made some phone calls, told her mom that she wouldn’t be home for dinner and checked in with her fiancé. Mac was still in the kitchen, making who knows what, but it smelled delicious.
“How are you doing, Travis?” Ava asked.
“Fine. Just can’t wait for this to end.”
“We can finish this tomorrow if you want.”
“No. Let’s get it done.”
They both sat down again in the booth and Ava pressed record.
“Saturday. The third round. All I remember was being dead tired. I woke up and felt like I’d never slept. For the first time in my life, I almost didn’t shave. I wasn’t sure if I had the energy.
“I picked up Raleigh at Memorial Park and headed for the course. We parked, and I slowly eas
ed out of the car.”
“Raleigh, I’m beat. I can’t believe how exhausted I am.”
“No problem,” he said. “I’m tired from just watching you yesterday. I can’t imagine how exhausting it would’ve been to be you. But that’s ok, because today is going to be a struggle for everyone. Their saying 25–30 mph winds from the north, 40 mph gusts, which means the course will play much longer today, but with your length, that helps us. How about we shoot for even par today? I bet that gets us close to the lead in these conditions.”
“Sounds like a great plan.”
“We got there early to have a good warm-up, but the wind made it difficult to figure anything out. In an attempt to save some energy, we just hung out inside and tried not to get me more tired. It was great getting to know Raleigh, just letting him talk and hearing some new stories. It was nice just to relax.
“Oh, and guess who showed up to watch on Saturday? Mac. I spotted him about twenty minutes before I teed off. I left the apartment before he woke up, so I had no idea that he had taken the weekend off and was coming. The tournament gave each player a special pass, for a wife or dad or whatever who wanted to avoid fans and walk inside the ropes, so Mac walked with us all day. He had a blast.
“The round wasn’t much to talk about at all. I bunted my way around the course. I was so worn out. I just tried to stay out of trouble and not make a big number, and with Raleigh’s help, it worked out. My putter was hot, thank the Lord, because I left myself seven putts from six to eight feet for par. Luckily, I only missed two. I had two bogeys and one eagle on the day, even par.
“And Raleigh was right about the wind causing havoc for the other golfers. Guys were dropping down the leaderboard like dead flies. The average score was 76. The tournament leader on Saturday shot a 78. The only guy who played well was the great Jim Ambrose, number two player in the world at the time. The guy shot a 65 in that wind. He was three shots behind me to start the day but now had a four-shot lead. So it was him and I together in the last group on Sunday.
Disappearing like the Wind Page 9
