BOUND FOR HOME
By Franklin Langham

It would be easy to start at the beginning, when my family moved near the golf course and I started playing more. My dad kept me interested in playing, and the tickets my grandfather got for us to see the Masters each year went a long way in forming my dreams to play golf for a career.

I guess I could start by talking about those years in high school, when I worked the scoreboard at the sixteenth green at Augusta National. That included 1986 and that special Sunday when I worked the scoreboard in the morning, then followed Jack Nicklaus in the afternoon, when at 46 he shot 30 on the back nine and won his sixth green jacket.

Or I could start by going back over the holes that led to my runner-up finish at Doral in 2000—my best tournament ever on the PGA Tour—or the birdies that secured my one Nationwide Tour victory in 1993 at the Permian Basin Open. That's what the newspaper people like you to do when the round is over: talk about those birdies.

But I think I'd most like to start with a Sunday school classroom at the Peachtree City United Methodist Church last Sunday morning in Peachtree, Georgia. I probably wasn't there. But my wife Ashley was. She oversees the Sunday school. And so were my boys, Parker, Carson, and George. I want to start with them because they are what I miss most when I'm out on tour making what really is a wonderful living.

Last Sunday, if it was like most Sundays, the boys heard a Bible story taught by someone whose Sundays are free.

Maybe it was the story of Joshua, whom God told to be courageous, an encouragement I love to remember myself when I'm on the golf course.

Or maybe it was the story of Solomon, the young man who asked God for wisdom and got it—in fantastic abundance. It was Solomon who wrote one of my favorite passages from the Bible: "Trust in the Lord with all your heart and do not lean on your own understanding. Acknowledge the Lord in all your ways, and He will direct your paths."I cannot tell you how much it means to me to know that God is directing my paths. Like most professional golfers, my paths are laid out in miles that lead far from home. So if I were directing those paths myself, I would probably find myself charging after all the things that most people think are the hallmarks of Tour players: million dollar checks, big endorsements, and idyllic days on the golf course. Believe me, those things are nice—though I've tasted just a bit of that—but I don't play golf for that anymore.

I play for God and I play for my family.

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Maybe the way I have started is a little bit hard for you to swallow. All this stuff about God and family and Sunday school. After all, I'm not a preacher. And you may not be a churchgoer.

So let's go ahead and back up a ways and talk about something I know we both love. Let's talk golf.

I started playing golf for the same reason a lot of kids start playing golf—because their dad does. But my dad had a bit of an advantage over a lot of dads. Not only was he able to introduce me to the greatest game on earth, but he was able to do that in the small town of Thomson, Georgia, just 30 miles from Augusta National, sometimes called "golfer's heaven." Actually, it's probably a good thing it's not heaven, because it's awfully hard to get in—but wow, what a place! Even in the eyes of a kid.

My parents didn't pressure me into golf, though. They encouraged me to do whatever I wanted to do. So I played baseball and participated in Boy Scouts and grew up doing a lot of regular boy stuff. I loved that.

But gradually golf took over. After my freshman year of high school, I started concentrating on golf as my main focus.

It sure did help that for three Masters, I was able to watch some of the world's greatest players negotiate one of the world's most famous holes, the par-3 sixteenth at Augusta. The hole, with water down the entire left side, bunkers right, and a severely sloping green, requires an exact tee shot or a marvelous short game. Watching the players overcome the trouble they found themselves in taught me how important the short game is and fueled the fire in me to play better myself.

By my senior year in high school, the year that Nicklaus stormed the final nine and turned Augusta into a Super Bowl atmosphere of deafening stadium-style roars, I was drawing the attention of college coaches.

I had several scholarship offers, but chose obscure Wofford College, a Methodist school in South Carolina. I'm not sure I ever thought I'd play my whole career at Wofford, but it was a good place to start. College freshmen at Division I schools often don't get to play because the competition and the adjustment are so great. At Wofford, I was able to acclimate myself to college and play the whole season.

After that year, I transferred to the University of Georgia. I made the golf team as a walk-on, steadily got better, and culminated my college career as a first team All-American. That senior year gave me a big boost of confidence and led me to turn pro.

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You probably know that the most common routine for a new tour professional does not begin on the PGA Tour. There's time to be spent on the mini-tours, sort of a Wofford College experience, only this time growing used to traveling, galleries, the media, those kinds of things. Professional golf is not just about getting the ball in the hole really quick. The mini-tours, and the Nationwide Tour especially, teach you to live your life so you can be prepared for the big Tour.

I began my tour career that way. And I didn't do too badly, winning in 1993. But it was two more years before I earned my PGA Tour card. In 1995, I finished fourth on the Nationwide money list and I was good to go. But like a lot of players, my stay on the big Tour was short. In 1997, I had no exempt status on either tour. I played a bit on the Nationwide Tour, then made it back to the PGA Tour in another fashion: I finished sixth at the Q-school tournament.

These were good years personally, too. Ashley and I were married, we traveled together, and she caddied for me. She and my dad are still the best caddies I've ever had because they know me as a person. It's not all about adding up the numbers and giving the right club. Caddies have to know the player and know when to say things and when not to say them. Ashley and I grew a lot during those years.When it comes down to it, though, there is a very fine line between playing on the Nationwide Tour and playing on the PGA Tour. In fact, I think the difference is getting smaller and smaller.

By 1997, Tiger's effect on the Tour and golf in general was in full force. Golf was cool now, the thing to do. When I was coming along, you were still considered a bit of a geek if you played golf. It wasn't a man's man's sport. That effect hasn't gone away. The game keeps reaching new levels. It takes a lot of talent, a lot of hard work, a lot of conditioning. Because of all those factors, the quality of play has gotten so much better.

Maybe I was more ready for this level of competition when I returned to the PGA Tour in 1998. Maybe the shots came down near the hole more often and the putts went in. But that season, I finished in the top 125 to keep my card and in 1999, I picked up three top tens and had my best year ever—up till then.

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Then came 2000. It was the year I was waiting for, what writers often call "a breakout season."

At Doral in February, I went to Sunday up by three shots. That's a big lead for a guy who has never won on Tour before. Protecting a lead can be hard to do when you're in that position. But I knew that if I kept going forward, kept making birdies, I should win.

It has been said that winning has to happen to you, and I believe that. That Sunday, starting three ahead and shooting 2-under for the day, maybe winning should have happened to me. It didn't. Jim Furyk played an awesome back nine. He shot 30 coming in.

That was a tough one to swallow, because I felt like it was my tournament to win. But the thing I drew on was that I did go out and play really well. That guy next to me just played better. Sometimes that's the way the game is. A lot of guys play well every week, but there's just one winner.

The other thing I seemed to learn that week was how to finish second. It happened again at the Greater Milwaukee Open and I tied for second the Kemper. For some players, I guess that would have been a season of disappointment. But it was my best season ever as a professional. And there were those two other great results from that season…

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First, while second place money isn't first place money, three runner-up finishes can add up to quite a bit. For me, they helped add up to a top-30 season and an invitation home—to the Masters.

In April 2001, 15 years after working that scoreboard at sixteen, I drove down Magnolia Lane for the first time as a player. It is my greatest memory as a professional. I literally prayed as I drove into Augusta National. "You know," I told God, "You've really blessed me and to be here is a dream come true."

I really was living out a boyhood dream that week. I think sometimes we're guilty of asking God for things and not being thankful. But that week I was thankful. It was surreal for me.

But equally rich about those three near misses was that I didn't beat myself up about them. I didn't have to. By that time, my two older sons, Parker and Carson, had been born (George came along in 2001). No longer did I take my golf game everywhere I went. With the boys at home, I left my golf on the golf course.

In earlier years, when I came in after a round, I would beat myself up over bad shots or bad holes. Now it was just a game. My kids loved me whether I shot 60, 70, or 80. They didn't know the difference.

It's a perspective I know I should have had a lot earlier. Although I was brought up in the church by parents who wanted me to know God for myself, we all wander off. For me, that wandering occurred in college, when I didn't really want to hang around church. For one thing, I was pursuing my goals in golf. I was not as diligent as I should have been, but I always knew that God was there for me.

When Ashley and I were married, we began to seek Him more earnestly. I have been so fortunate to have a wife who has been there to encourage me. I am privileged to encourage her in her faith, too. On the road, we do have a support group of players and some quality Bible studies. But there's nothing like being at home.

Yes, God has been close, and in recent years I have tried to be more consistent in my walk with Him and keep Him close to me. He's what life is all about. He's the deal. We all do what we do because of Him.For me, that is playing golf. Believe it or not, I'm trying just as hard to make a putt for $1,000 on the Nationwide Tour as I do when the putt's for $100,000 on the big Tour. I love golf. And I love the fact that God has made it possible for me to play this game for a living.You know, you take whatever path you're given and you make the most of it. But I can tell you this: From all I've learned, that path will be so much smoother if you walk it with Christ. Remember Solomon's words, "Trust in the Lord with all your heart...and He will direct your paths." Those words mean so much to me because I know how true they are.

This article originally appeared in the Links Letter, September 2003.

FRANKLIN LANGHAM

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