“The answer is in the dirt.”
By Matthew Levy
Volunteer for 2003 Special Olympics National Golf Tournament
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Matthew Levy, back row, left, with some of his fellow volunteers for 2003 Special Olympics National Golf Tournament: Brian Vaisnoras, (front row, left to right) Dani Keller, Cheryll Wood, and Danielle Skorski. |
When it came across the radio, I was so excited that I forgot about the heat and humidity. Someone had made a hole in one. The rules official did not know who had made the shot, but he saw it drop. I was tired, we all were. It had been a long week of hard manual labor in the hot sun, but this news had me energized. Someone had aced the sixth hole of the South golf course.
It was only a week earlier that I had been sitting in my house, slightly bored from a job search that was beginning to go on too long, when my phone rang. Could I come and volunteer for the 2003 Special Olympics National Golf Tournament in Port St. Lucie, Florida, an hour from my home?
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"Our day began before the sun came up, and ended well after it set," says Levy, shown here preparing some of the many banners hung throughout the venue. "Each night I went to sleep feeling satisfied that I had worked hard for a good cause." |
I love golf. I love to play, and I can watch it for hours. Actually, I watch golf for a living — I intermittently work for NBC Sports televising golf. Over the last six years, I have worked on some of the biggest golf events in the world, including three Ryder Cups and the last six U.S. Opens. Let’s just say that over timeI have gained an appreciation for the amount of organization and effort involved in putting on a successful golf event. Even so, I agreed to volunteer.
Now it was the middle of the second round of the 2003 Special Olympics National Invitational Tournament and the action was heating up. There was a flurry of excited radio exchanges. Who was it? How far? What club? It seemed as if it took a long time for the answers to come, but my radio finally spit out the info: it was Kevin Erickson from Green Bay, Wisconsin. The same Kevin Erickson who had been leading level 5 after round one. (Special Olympics golf has five levels depending on the athlete’s ability; competitors in level 5 play their own ball for three rounds.) Kevin had shot an opening round 84 and was leading by six shots.
I grabbed one of the photographers and headed out to the course. We got there when Kevin was playing the seventh hole. I congratulated him, and he told me he was four under. I said “that’s great,” and urged him to keep it going. But as I rode away, I thought, there’s no way the guy is four under par, he must not have it right. After his round, after he had cooled down and eaten his lunch, I got a chance to talk with Kevin and his mother and I found out I was wrong — he was four under!
Kevin is an all around athlete. He is involved in soccer, bowling and other sports, but according to his mother “golf is premier.” When you talk to Kevin, it’s obvious he loves golf. He works at Mystery Hills Golf Course in DePere, Wisconsin picking the range. They have given him a membership where he practices often and says he plays “four or five times a week.”
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Some of the 2003 Special Olympics National Golf Tournament committee members, hard at work organizing the details. Pictured left to right are Donna White, Special Olympics Golf Manager; Eric Wilson, PGA of America member; and Dorothy Mastromonaco, United States Golf Association. |
Kevin’s round started on the back nine, and things were going smoothly until he reached 16—a double bogey, bogey, double bogey finish left him with a seven over 43 for the opening nine. He said he “missed too many greens.” But, the second nine was a different story. A birdie, birdie start righted the ship, and then he rattled off three consecutive pars. The sixth hole is a par three with water to the left. The pin was cut in the front of the green and the hole was playing just under 100 yards. “I hit a three quarter pitching wedge, it took one bounce and spun in the hole,” Kevin said, his demeanor calm and cool.
A hole-in-one is golf’s perfection. A “1” looks so strange on your card, yet there is nothing sweeter in golf. Everyone shares in the excitement. The news of an ace covers the course like a tidal wave. It seems as if everybody knows, and everyone wants to congratulate you. They want to shake your hand in the hope that some of your magic may rub off. If you’ve ever had one, you know that you never forget it. And if you play and have never made one, well, you hope it’s coming. And you can only hope that it comes in the biggest tournament of your life, with your family and friends around to share it with you.
But despite the commotion, Kevin still had three holes to go. It’s so easy to lose concentration after so much excitement. He knew he was now four under on the second nine, and that’s generally a bad thing for a golfer. Kevin made a bogey on the par five seventh hole, and then rolled in a thirty-footer for birdie on eight to get it right back. A bogey at the very difficult closing hole and it was in the record book.
Kevin Erickson brought his “A” game when it mattered most. In fact, Kevin played the best golf of his life, carding the lowest score ever shot in the Special Olympics: a 76. Plus he achieved a personal best for a nine hole score as well as achieving golf’s most magical accomplishment: a hole-in-one.
At the 1999 Special Olympics World Summer Games, Kevin found himself with a 14 shot lead going into the final round but ultimately lost by six shots. Now, Kevin found himself in a nearly identical situation, sleeping on a big lead with the final round still to play.
Kevin’s life had changed since the World Games in 1999. His story is about courage, triumph, redemption, and love of the game of golf. Kevin had not played in any of the major golf events since that year. He couldn’t. Kevin was diagnosed with a rare sinus cancer, and the chemotherapy needed to help Kevin destroyed his immune system to the point where he was unable to be around others. The only activity the doctor would allow was golf, saying that Kevin could practice on the range and could play with others, as long as he was riding alone in a sanitized cart.
Golf provided Kevin with a focus. His mother said, “Without golf, I do not know if Kevin would have recovered.” His grandmother, also at the tournament and a member of the Wisconsin Golf Hall of Fame, echoed the same sentiment: “Without golf, I do not know what Kevin would do.”
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Kevin Erickson, right, poses with his closest pursuer and playing competitor, David Bueche. |
Kevin would go on to win the Championship, despite his nearest pursuer and playing competitor, David Bueche, carding a personal best 36 (even par) on the first nine, cutting into Kevin’s lead by eight shots. But the back nine, it was all Kevin. He took control, finishing two under on the side for the weekend with help, of course, from his hole in one. Kevin shot the tournament record, firing a 79 on the final day, giving him a three-day total of 239 and the gold medal.
Before my volunteer stint at the National Invitational Tournament, I was ignorant about mental retardation. I’ve never known a person with a mental handicap and I just did not know anything about what their lives were like. I had a lot questions. I did not know whether it was all right to call them retarded. Can they marry? Can they live alone? Are they allowed to drive a car? Can they have kids? I was ignorant. I got a week-long crash course while volunteering, and I learned a lot more than I expected.
In golf, you compete against your fellow competitors, but they cannot interfere with you. They cannot tackle you during your swing, or block your ball from going in the hole. A golfer always competes against the course. While I witnessed hard-fought competition, these athletes were making friends—friendships born out of an enjoyment of golf. Their attitude was infectious.
What impressed me was the commitment to competition. There were 158 golfers, ranging in age from 9 to 59, who traveled from 26 states to compete in the tournament. And this was a true golf tournament. The USGA Rules of golf were enforced. The organizers had the attitude that as in life, there are winners and losers.
At the medal ceremony an athlete approached Jim Schmutz, Managing Director, Special Olympics North America about going to the next World Games in China. Schmutz told him you have got to earn your way there, saying “practice hard and see what happens.” While this brief exchange went unnoticed by most of the people, it exemplifies the philosophy of Special Olympics.
The integrity of the competition in Special Olympics is what creates the empowerment that was so apparent at the medal ceremony. These athletes were proud because they had accomplished something. If you go soft and say they are mentally retarded so everybody should win, you cheat them out of the chance to taste victory and defeat. Those are the experiences that help people to grow.
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The 2003 Special Olympics National Golf Tournament Director, Heidi Wegmueller, cools off on the last day of the successful event. |
There were in excess of 250 volunteers who came and gave their time at this tournament. I was so lucky to have the opportunity to work with them. These are special people too. They give their time and energy to create a constructive, fun environment for Special Olympics athletes. They are patient, generous and find joy in the happiness of others. And they know how to have a good time. There were a lot of great laughs out there.
A core group of volunteers was responsible for most of the heavy lifting. Our day began before the sun came up, and ended well after it set. Each night I went to sleep feeling satisfied that I had worked hard for a good cause. I was able to reflect only as long as I could stay awake, which didn’t last long. There were good vibes all around.
The thing that stands out above all else is the warmth. This was a happy group of people who found pleasure in all things. The athletes I spent time with wanted to have a good time. They were there to compete, but with a smile. They were elated by their success and took failure in stride.
I left Port St. Lucie somehow cleansed. I felt better about my fellow man. I made new friends and witnessed the game of golf bring people together and provide fun, spirited competition. I learned that people with mental retardation are not stupid or people for whom to feel sorry. They experience happy, fulfilled lives. And the athletes I met love golf!
When people asked Ben Hogan for advice on how to hit good golf shots, Hogan replied, “The answer is in the dirt.” I learned from Kevin Erickson that a passion for golf transcends all things. Serenity exists when you grip the club; and for the time it takes to execute a shot, life has a singular purpose. Kevin may have never heard Hogan’s words, but I bet he understands them.
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