How COVID Effects Golf Industry Workers

‘OUR SEASON ENDED TOO SOON’

By Ana Belac, former Duke University standout who turned pro in April

The NCAA gave senior spring athletes the option to come back and compete, but I’m ready to start living my dream

Our team was driving to a tournament when we heard the season was canceled and that college sports had been suspended because of the coronavirus. Two hours later, we heard the NCAAs were canceled. It was difficult to process. In just a few hours, I went from being in a pre-tournament mind-set to having my senior season end. More than that, my final season with this team, representing the university I love, defending our NCAA Championship, was over. I became emotional thinking about it and everything I had accomplished: I came to Duke from Slovenia with only a duffel bag and my clubs.

‘LESSONS HAVE TAKEN A BIG HIT’

By James Hong Golf instructor with a focus on juniors North Hempstead, N.Y.

There’s just no way to replicate being on the practice tee 10 hours a day, six days a week with the flip of a switch from a business perspective

I’ve enjoyed being home with my boys and my wife—something a golf pro doesn’t get to say about early spring. Being able to experience that togetherness—cooking, sharing meals, being present, makes me appreciate even more what I have and what I’ve missed because of the demands of the job. I look at this time as an opportunity to start the projects I had on the shelf because I didn't have time, like developing my website and improving my online training programs. I’ve always had a certain paranoia about success—asking myself what I need to do to make my offerings better so I can stay fresh and relevant. I choose to look at the positive. None of us can afford to waste time dwelling on what’s fair. Read James Hong's full story here.

‘THE VIRUS CAUGHT ME EARLY’

By Roland Merullo, novelist Williamsburg, Mass.

Giving up golf is a lesson in perspective, but that doesn’t make it any easier. In my case, there were a couple twists to the story

After two years away from my favorite course, I rejoined it over the winter. I love that place, dream about it, write about it, have a thousand memories there. I play it (very well!) in my mind before I fall asleep. I remember particular shots, both great and awful, and particular rounds with my wife and our young daughters, with a beloved cousin and wonderful pals, in cold and heat and rain, alone at dusk, and closing up the place one frigid October evening with a friend who loves the game as much as I do. It hurts not to play. Maybe because of our endless winters, we cherish every decent day in these parts, knowing how fast the season slips away. And, as we age, how fast the years go by.

‘OUR TOWN IS BROKEN-HEARTED’

By Randall Wood, owner Haliburton Highlands Golf Course, Ontario

I’m not going to do anything that puts anyone in harm’s way, no matter what this does to the business. People come first

There hasn’t been a moment of levity. Not yet. There’s a home for seniors south of the course that has lost more than a dozen to the virus that has left our county heartbroken. Maybe when we start to see the curve flatten, we can begin to hope. I’ve been in the golf industry for two decades, but I recently just became a course owner, purchasing Haliburton Highlands Golf Course. It’s an executive nine-holer in a tourist and cottage area in central Ontario. Because of that layout, our demographic has a contingent of retirees. They love the game, can’t get enough of it. But they know they’re an at-risk group. You can hear the worry in their voice. They’re worried about how things will change going forward.

‘A LOT OF GUYS ARE SCARED’

By Bob Parilla Jr., caddie Quaker Ridge Golf Club Scarsdale, N.Y.

As independent contractors, we depend entirely on tips and can’t apply for conventional unemployment insurance

Most of us are stuck at home, not knowing when we’ll be out there again. In the past, our club has been good about looking out for us, finding work on the grounds crew, for instance, when caddies got injured or were too old to walk the course on a regular basis. Our members have generously chipped into a caddie support fund, and we’ve been in touch with each other about temporary jobs. But a lot of guys are freaking out because they budget all year based on their summer work. I just put in for the $1,200 one-time payment under the relief bill, but that won’t go far. I was going to start delivering groceries and pizzas, but I live with a girlfriend who has a pre-existing condition, and I can’t afford to bring the disease back to her. Read Bob Parilla Jr.'s full story here.

‘WE NEED TO GET BACK TO NORMAL’

By Peter Weiss, mayor Oceanside, Calif.

I didn’t have any qualms about playing. I considered a golf course to be as essential as a park

I worry about the impact of not being outside, not getting exercise, that not playing golf is having on people. Those who work at the golf courses, the guys in the golf shop or the cart girls, they aren’t making $100,000 a year. They need to get back to work. I have an older neighbor who is a golfer. He’s been up since all of this started. He would absolutely love to get back out there. Essentially, it’s his entire social life. We need to get back to normal life. Now, I think there is going to be a “new” normal. But we’d like to get back to going to the golf course, going to the beach, going surfing, and not keep everyone sitting at home, panicked and paranoid. Read Peter Weiss' full story here.

‘I WAS HELPING TO CHANGE LIVES’

By Nick Novak Supervisor of Custom-Clubfitting Golf Performance Center, Ridgefield, Conn.

During the lockdown, I’ve been devoting time to keeping the PGA Hope program alive, even if the vets can’t play outdoors

I remember the first time I went to the Mosholu Golf Course, a nine-hole municipal track in the Bronx, to teach a golf clinic for PGA Hope (Helping Our Patriots Everywhere), a program for military veterans who want to learn the game. A few guys seemed really down. Some had disheveled dress and didn’t say much. Others barely made eye contact, and I would find out later that a couple hadn’t been out of the house in weeks. After coming back for three or four more clinics, they started act differently. They showed up in new golf clothes, they began to talk trash, they high-fived each other. Some opened up about their PTSD and told me that golf had become like therapy. By sharing my passion for the game, I was helping to change their lives. Read Nick Novak's full story here.

‘FIRST CANCER, THEN THIS PANDEMIC’

By Sam Humphreys Golfer and graduate of the University of Missouri-Kansas City

She said ‘You did it. This is what we talked about in those hospital beds’

Chemotherapy is brutal. It’s like being hungover and having the flu and just being super sick at the same time. I did four rounds of chemo. One was Monday through Friday, 7 a.m. to 1:30 p.m.—just getting fluids, steroids and drugs pumped into me. Then I’d have two weeks off to recover. It was awful. I remember lying on the couch in the fetal position and watching football, sipping on pickle juice so I could stop throwing up to get some sleep. I somehow kept a positive mind-set. I had family and friends supporting me and a strong sense of faith. I wanted to show people that you don’t stop living when you have cancer. Continuing to do what you love is important, so I would try to hit balls or catch up with friends when I felt up to it. Read Sam Humphreys' full story here.

‘NOT KNOWING IS THE HARD PART’

By Jeff Raedle, president Global Golf Management, Chicago

We love the run up to a tournament: the planning, the building, the execution, and finally gameday

I’m concerned for our team, which numbers 25 people. Many of them have been with us for more than 10 years. We’re like a family, so it brings on real stress to think about how we can move forward and make sure everyone is being taken care of. So far, we haven’t had to let anyone go. Our morale is still pretty good. The members of our team are creatures of habit. We thrive on timelines and deadlines. We all need to be moving. Living. There’s a real adrenaline rush. No joke, it feels like a competition, and during a tournament week, we are right in the middle of it. I miss that. I know we all do. Uncertainty, that’s the hard part. Even with the PGA Tour’s revised schedule, it’s all written in sand, isn’t it?

‘A MASTERS DREAM ON HOLD’

By Jim Downey, age 69 Retired civil engineer Charleston, W.Va.

I assumed it would be canceled, and my tickets would be of no use. I couldn’t imagine they’d put on the Masters in any month other than April

If there’s any downside to getting Masters tickets for Father’s Day, it’s having to wait 10 months to use them, but it gave my son and me something to look forward to. I also had time to get in shape. I’ve heard how the elevation changes at Augusta National are more severe than they appear on television. So at the start of this year, I began walking two miles a day, watching what I eat and lifting weights. I knew this would be my only chance to experience the course in person, and I didn’t want a lack of conditioning to take away from it. I’ve stuck to my routine pretty well, losing 15 pounds and feeling better than I have in years. But by early March, the coronavirus had spread across the country. When I heard the Masters had been postponed, I was disappointed but not surprised.

Bob Parilla Jr. (center) in 1985 at age 19 when he caddied for Mickey Mantle (left)

Read Roland Merullo's full story here.

Read Randall Wood's full story here.

Read Ana Belac's full story here.

Read Bob Parilla Jr.'s full story here.

Read James Hong's full story here.

Read Jeff Raedle's full story here.

Read Peter Weiss' full story here.

Read Sam Humphreys' full story here.

Read Nick Novak's full story here.

Read Jim Downey's full story here.