The Master's

I dedicated seven years to golf. In the end, I came out with a master’s, not with the green jacket, but with a cap and gown and hood. Truly, it was no more surprising than Cabrera’s win.

No one thought I would ever graduate. One professor told me the worst thing I could do for a graduate degree was to get married, and the second worst was to have kids. I did both. A three year program stretched into an eleven year span, and a forty page thesis went to 134 pages including eleven tables and thirty-nine figures! By the time I submitted my thesis, my social security number had expired.

In the meantime, I took a job at a golf course, which led to another job at another golf course, and then another. It was a good, clean industry, with most people polite and well-dressed. I worked business hours in the offices, behind the scenes where club pros humorously fowl computer software, chefs serve dessert samples, and course maintenance folks leave flowers on one’s desk from time to time. It wasn’t always the Shangri-La of Caddy Shack, but Augusta’s recent tournament has reminded me of many good times. And the UNBELIEVABLE VICTORY OF HANGING IN THERE FOR A MASTER’S!

Despite clubhouse access during numerous professional events, I never met Angel Cabrera. Still, I’d like to share with him a poem I wrote for my graduation, appropriate for a fellow Master.


COMMENCEMENT POEM

Today they are not judging me
I am free as a birdsong in mid-flight
I can rest my hands upon my knees
And gloat into the night.