The years was 2007 but more importantly, it was the summer before I went into high school. Even though I had a very big personality, I had friends, I had, what I’d say, was a decently popular social life. I (like every fourteen-year-old ever) struggled with confidence. I struggled with feeling like I didn’t fit in. I struggled to become who I was becoming.
One thing that certainly didn’t help the above, was the fact that I had never spent much time with my mother. But for some reason, this summer I was headed up to Destin Florida, where my mother lived with her then fiancé. I didn’t know much about Destin, my mom’s fiancé or… for that point, I didn’t know much about my mom. This wasn’t only because of my parents’ divorce, but also because through the years my mom made it clear that she didn’t want much to do with my life. Broken promises, unreturned phone calls and going years between seeing my mother weren’t just common, they were what I expected.
Looking back, I am not sure why I went up to Destin that summer… was it because I knew these next two weeks was the real “last gasp” at an attempted relationship with her? Or was it because I, like most fourteen-year old’s, had nothing better to do over the summer. Either way, looking back, I am really glad I went, because that summer changed my life.
As the calendar sits today, it’s November 11th 2020, and in an unprecedented year, we are about to enter into a weekend that will hold what has been known as a “tradition unlike any other”. The hallowed grounds of Augusta National will play site for the best golfers in the world, as they go for one of the most coveted prizes in all of sports, the green jacket. Since 1948, the final round of the Masters has been played on the second Sunday of April with few exceptions, this year being one of those exceptions. Covid-19 has moved the tournament to the start date of November 12th and for the first time ever, the green jacket will be needed to shield the chill from the air.
Patsy was my mother’s mom… or as normal people would call her “grandma”. We didn’t have much of a relationship either, but to her credit, she tried a hell of a lot more than my mom. She would pick me and my sister up every once in a while, take us for dinner or even sometimes she’d just take us on shopping sprees… I imagine that had something to do with her feeling sorry for us.
I remember thinking several times during the seven-hour drive from Lake Wales to Destin…
“What the hell am I doing? I am basically driving to a different state, to hang out with strangers for two weeks?? What if I don’t like it? What if I want to come home?”
While these thoughts were racing in my head, I started to struggle to breath, I breathed deeper and deeper but nothing was coming… I was choking.
As a fourteen year old child, I was having a panic attack… because I was on my way to see my mother.
In 1930, Bobby Jones had for the first time in golf history, swept the four major championships (The US Pro & US Amateur championship and the British Pro & British Amateur championship). That same year, Bobby bought a large piece of farmland in a small Georgia town and enlisted the help of course designer Alister MacKenzie to bring his vision to life. Bobby Jones built a world class golf club and to put the cherry on top, he created the PGA Tour most exclusive tournament, and he would call it “The Masters”.
My mother’s fiancé wasn’t what you’d call a good guy… well he’s what the children might call “A drug dealer”.Now, your mind might wander a little when I say drug dealer but let me give you some details…
Lenard Paradise was from in New Jersey and you could tell. He was 5’8, a solid brown tan, in his late 30s and looked like someone you’d like to have a beer with. His official job was a golf instructor at a country club in Destin, but that’s not how he afforded his lifestyle. Lenny sold white man’s drugs; Cocaine, Opioids and of course party drugs like Ecstasy & Molly. His cliental usually would meet him at the course, he’d give them a lesson or play 9 holes, then he’d send them on their way. Lenny was also a gambling addict. Any night, any game, he had action on it. His action wasn’t like ours, he had real action, hundreds if not thousands of dollars chasing an over in an NBA finals game (I know this because we watched a finals game together that summer and he won 5 thousand dollars that night).
It wasn’t long after my feet hit the driveway of my mother’s house, that I was rushing to find a cell phone. My first call was to my father of course.
“You have to get me out of here. I can’t do this” I said.
My father replied “I know you’re scared but it’s important that you do this. This is a once in a lifetime experience for you to change your relationship with your mother”.
I made him promise me before we ended the call that he’d make the 14-hour round trip to pick me up if I called again. My father did. Now, Father Tim wouldn’t make the 14-minute round trip to pick me up at Derek’s most days, but I imagine he could hear the fear in my voice on that day.
So, there I was. In Destin. With nothing to do.
The house Lenny was renting wasn’t just nice, it overlooked the 6th hole, about 90 yards from the pin. It was a far cry from the double wide I left in Lake Wales, and for the first time in my life I thought “this is what rich people live like”. For the first couple days, I sat around, watched MTV and worked on my “MySpace” profile.
When I woke up the morning of the third day, much to my surprise Lenny was there. I didn’t like that, because most mornings I hid in my room till everyone left. But there I was, standing in the kitchen with a dude that I didn’t know, in a place that I didn’t know, and I had nothing to say.
Lenny asked, “So… did you bring your clubs? Your mother said you were a golfer”
I wasn’t surprised that my mother told Lenny I was a golfer, in her defense, she didn’t know anything about me.
“What clubs? Golf clubs?? I don’t own golf clubs” I responded.
“Alright, let’s go”. Lenny grabbed his keys and headed for the door.
I figured, at this point, do I really have a choice? Where else could I go? So, I followed him. We took the short trip to the club house of the course that he lived and worked at. He then disappeared and came back a couple minutes later with a set of Cobra golf clubs.
“So, they aren’t new but they’re pro models”
I’m not sure how he got them, and I didn’t know at the time, but Lenny had just given me a thousand dollar set of clubs.
He then proceeded to give me my first golf lesson and I spent the rest of that trip playing golf every single day. Almost sunup to sundown. I spent most evenings putting on the 6th hole alone, recreating the putt Tiger Woods made at the Masters in 2005. I’d roll a 4ft putt, then give a huge Tiger Woods fist pump and celebrate with the imaginary crowd.
No, this story doesn’t have a Disney movie ending where I make up with my mom and she becomes a piece of my life again. Actually, the opposite, if you couldn’t tell from the story, my mom wasn’t around much during the trip and at the end of it, I really had come to peace with the truth. For whatever reason, my mom didn’t like me much and that was okay. And no, I didn’t talk to Lenny really ever again. Lenny wasn’t a good dude; he fought his demons every day and most days they ended up winning. The sweet setup came to an end for Lenny when he got caught with his hands in the cookie jar and went for a two-year vacation to a state penitentiary.
That summer changed my life because I walked away thinking golf was cool. I played four ROUGH years of varsity golf at Lake Wales High School with the clubs Lenny gave me and I had kept them with me all the way up to earlier this year, when I sold them thirteen years later for three hundred dollars.
On the eve of the biggest tournament of the year, I remember Lenny. Was Lenny kindness to me serving an ulterior motive? Almost certainly. Fourteen-year-old Mitchell would have liked to have known the ulterior motive. Twenty-Seven-year-old Mitchell doesn’t. Because it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter if he wasn’t a good person. It didn’t matter that he probably stole or exchanged those clubs for drugs or some other type of sideways deal. What mattered was that man, in that moment, went out of his way to be kind to me and he introduced me to what would become my favorite sport and one of my go to coping methods.
This weekend, I am going to watch the Masters, like I have every year since that summer, but this year I am going to have a beer and a rail of cocaine in honor of Lenny.
Just kidding on the cocaine (wink), it was just a way to cut through the tension of an awkwardly personal start to talking about made up games in a made-up football league. TO THE PICKS!
Maxi and Dem Boys vs Ben’s Kracken
Ben is every DIII school that has ever played in a tune up game for a D1 school ever. Does he have much of a chance to win? No. Can he win? Oh yes and it’s going to be very embarrassing for fans for years to come if he does win (insert App State joke here). Ben proved anything is possible this past week, knocking off Jarro and the Landsharks in a game Jarro would like to forget forever. Maxi had a huge bounce back week proving he doesn’t need any of the star players he started the year with, no, he can do it with DeeJay Dallas and the ghost of Jordan Howard. This week *SHOULDN’T* be close, but it could. GIMME MAXI AND DEM BOYS TO EAT A W!
Mason’s Mistress vs Uncle Sammy’s Elite
Is this a must win for both teams?? It is for Mason because the clock will soon be striking mid-night and we need to know if he’s a princess or a pumpkin. It is for Caleb because (like I said all year) this team is going to be battling for one of the last playoff spots and every single win is important. The good news for Caleb, the last three games aren’t unwinnable but when you’re scoring around 100 each week you need all the help you can get. The Jordan Wilkins led Mistresses will need a little good fortune of their own this week but overall, it’s the better team and in the game of “what’s most likely to happen” I think Mason wins.
Jake’s Jive Turkeys vs Logan’s Legion
Jake, thanks for joining us. There might not be a bigger matchup this week. The hottest team in the league fresh off of acquiring Derrick Henry is playing the team I pronounced dead two weeks ago. In my face. With no Mahomes, Julio or Kelce in this matchup things might get a little crazy, like game depends on who has the better week JD McKissic or TJ Hockenson levels of crazy. I am going to stay consistent here and go with the Legion, but that’s mostly because I want Jake to lose for seeding purposes. In real life it’s a coin flip that should be watched by the whole league.
Derek’s BDE vs Hanna’s Honeys
In this years “Battle for Mitchell’s Heart” we have two teams that are in a back alley fist fight for the last playoff spot. Hanna’s fighting with an arm tied behind the back because of injuries and Derek is just happy to be here. Riding a four-game losing streak, if Hanna loses here it could be high time for her to start thinking about taking her ball and going home. If Derek loses, he can just keep his ball packed away and act like he has planned on missing the playoffs all along. No Ezekiel Elliot this week hurts Hanna but she might get Miles Sanders and possibly, my favorite player, Kenny Golladay back as well. I am gonna have to go with my gut here. Typically, I just pick Hanna because we share a bed, but Derek and I also share a bed several times a week sooooo I am stumped there… uh…. Can I vote tie? Imma vote tie. That way I don’t get the sheets pulled off me by either of you in the middle of the night.
Jarro’s Landsharks vs Adam’s Island Survivors
Let’s go back in time… 6 weeks ago Adam beat Mason 119 to 105, he then took to the group chat and demanded we “put some respect” on his team name. Since then, Adam is 2-4 and has only broken 100 points twice. And that, friends and neighbors, is why we don’t demand respect. Speaking of demanding respect, Jarro might finally be getting healthy… oh wait he’s not? CMC hurt again? Might miss multiple weeks? Oh…. Uh…. Well Jarro you better reach deep into the ethers of fantasy twitter and pull out another Miles Gaskins… oh he’s hurt too huh… well… yea… If Chubb us back Jarro wins, if not… uh…. Yea… let’s not talk about that.
Mitchell vs Father Tim
This is already way too long. I’ll leave it at this.
*Dog emoji*
*Crown emoji*
AAAAWWHHHHHOOOOLLLLLLL
WATCH THE MASTERS!!!
The MFL 