By Matt Ginella
If you weren’t there to actually hear it…
[“THWACK!”]
… then you’ve probably heard about it.
[Large crowd chanting “Oh-gul-vee! Oh-gul-vee! Oh-gul-vee!”]
If you weren’t there to run around mindlessly yelling obscenities in disbelief, if you didn’t toss your beer to the blue sky, bear-hug a stranger, high-five a kid, trip over a dog and party past midnight, well, you missed out on the latest Wishbone Brawl at Goat Hill Park in Oceanside, Calif., which, in three years, has become one of golf’s greatest little events.
For example, Geoff Ogilvy’s walk-off ace on the first playoff hole (133-yard wedge), which gave Ogilvy and partner Chris Riley the win over Dean Wilson and Xander Schauffele in front of hundreds of screaming fans within a grassy municipal amphitheater, at sunset, all for charity!
I mean, not for nothing, isn’t THIS what it’s all about?
“It was a cosmic day all the way around,” says John Ashworth, who, along with his nephew Geoff Cunningham, co-founded Linksoul eight years ago and agreed to a 50-year lease to operate Goat Hill Park five years ago. “To me it was a sign that everything we’re doing is right.”
To his point, is it possible that the sum total of guys like Ashworth, a course like Goat Hill Park, an event like the Wishbone Brawl, a community like Oceanside, a brand like Linksoul, not to mention the actual linking of souls, is a microcosm of the game itself? Who’s not rooting for and supporting any or all of the above? If you’re not, you’re no friend of mine. In fact, you probably don’t have a lot of friends at all. That’s the true magic of golf, that it gives us Ogilvy’s match-ending swish at a mini muny, and it’s moments like those that leads me to believe that there are Golf Gods.
If you were lucky enough to be there that day, if you listened to the clinic on the driving range, made your way down the hill to watch the kid’s scramble with the pros (which, oh by the way, ended in a Schauffele birdie for the win), if you stood around the first tee and heard the National Anthem of both Australia and the United States, and if you immersed yourself in the actual match, which was high-level golf, an abundance of birdies and banter, no ropes, junior caddies, a jail-break puppy that snatched Schaueffele’s ball off the green, multiple babies on the loose, Riley finding ’04 Ryder Cup form with the flat-stick, Wilson’s local love and home-course advantage, along with Schauffele’s fiercely competitive core, often concealed by a boyish smirk, then you witnessed one of the most inspirational days and finishes in golf’s great history. And more importantly, you drove away believing there is something tangible to what’s often referred to as The Spirit of The Game.
Although it was Ashworth and Wilson who hatched the idea of an event like this, they couldn’t have pulled it off without the support of loyal locals, also known as Linksouldiers. Plus notable sponsors such as TRULY Hard Seltzer, who truly made a significant impact in the success of this year’s event. And then there are the Tour pros like Charley Hoffman, who grew up in San Diego and played in the first two Brawls. Mike Weir, who played with Wilson in college and competed in the second Brawl. Chris Riley, who’s the men’s golf coach at the University of San Diego, who played in the first and third Brawl. Geoff Ogilvy, a rookie Brawler who is Ashworth’s longtime friend, original brand ambassador and face of all that’s good about golf. But it’s actually Schauffele, who has played in all three Brawls, who has put the event on his back and seems hyper-focused on taking it all to the next level.
“The future of golf is in good hands with guys like Xander,” says Wilson. “He’s playing the game at the highest level at such a young age, and yet he’s mature enough to understand how important it is to give back to his community.”
Schauffele, who was born and raised in La Jolla and played for San Diego State, has enjoyed a meteoric rise to Top 10 in the world. Earlier that day, he had committed to financing the building of the new North County Junior Golf Association’s home office, which will overlook the kid’s course at Goat Hill Park. And as he was walking up the 18th fairway of regulation play, down one, en route to the Presidents Cup in Australia, he took that time to solicit advice on how he could help grow the Wishbone Brawl’s exposure as an event while maintaining the same level of community spirit.
“It’s tricky, right?” Schauffele remarked, while appreciating the energy and enthusiasm of the gallery around him. “It’s like the golf swing, you don’t want to make any drastic changes. If it’s working, you don’t mess with it.”
And thus, answering his own question. Sometimes you can help change everything by not changing anything.
Having covered the conundrum that has been the “growth of the game,” and having watched the growth of all that is the Wishbone Brawl—from a few hundred to almost a thousand—it’s clear that events like this are leading us into the new frontier by going back to the past.
Let’s be honest: The Game is The Game.
It IS spiritual. It does deserve our respect and reverence. It is all around us, in various shapes and forms. It’s a putting contest, a chip-off, closest-to-the-pin, Top Golf, a horse race, Calcutta, first date, father/daughter, Friday skins, bachelor party, an annual buddies trip, member-guest, mid-am and the Masters.
It’s also not perfect, and sticking with the theme of golf the religion, if you saw The Two Popes you’d say, golf is not God, it’s of God, which is why it’s not flawless.
Going back to Old and Young Tom Morris, it has always been generational, it’s global and thus definitely multi-racial, certainly cross-cultural, and don’t look now, it’s even making great strides in welcoming women. Golf can be slow, but it’s always over too fast. Distance is an issue, but we’ll travel halfway around the world to play it. It’s too difficult, but we want the fairways and greens hard and fast. Tour pros are making millions, but there’s a movement to save the local muny.
“Believe in the mercy you preach,” also plucked from The Two Popes.
What took place on that ninth tee of Goat Hill Park the Saturday before Thanksgiving felt like a Christmas miracle. There’s a still image that has now drawn comparisons to The Last Supper. That sound of the ball hitting the flagstick at the bottom of the cup seemed to be the exclamation point at the end of a message to the masses.
It’s worth repeating: Geoff Ogilvy with a walk-off ace on the first playoff hole, (133-yard wedge) which gave Ogilvy and partner Chris Riley the win over Dean Wilson and Xander Schauffele in front of hundreds of screaming fans within a grassy municipal amphitheater, at sunset, all for charity!
Did I mention they played persimmon woods?
Can I get an Amen?!
The end. And yet, it feels like just the beginning.
