5 minute read
Jay Delsing
(Editor’s note: A graduate of St. Louis U. High, Jay Delsing played golf at UCLA with Corey Pavin, Steve Pate and Tom Pernice. He went on to a PGA Tour career that included 565 career starts and 25 years. He is currently the host of “Golf with Jay Delsing” on 101 ESPN Radio.)
As I sit here typing, I realize I have been involved - through love, hate and general enthrallment - with the game of golf for over 47 years. Undoubtedly, this thought is a function of my age. But every day I think about how fortunate I have been to have the opportunities I have had, and literally marvel at what a societal powerhouse this game is. Rantings of an old dude who’s sustained too many 3 putts? Maybe. But did you know that the PGA Tour donates more money to charities every year than the NBA, MLB, NFL and NHL combined? And that’s to say nothing about what the USGA and PGA of America contributes. In 2019, the PGA Tour raised $204.3 million. That record figure brings the total monies raised over the years to $3.05 billion. Staggering. If you were present for the 100th anniversary of the PGA Championship at Bellerive Country Club n 2018, you may be able to understand. The PGA of America operates their championship separately from the Tour, but the charitable commitment is similar. The formula is that 50% of all money raised stays home. This means that when the bleachers are removed and the trucks are gone, as one friend who works at the PGA Tour headquarters in Jacksonville put it, “a huge bucket of money“ is there for the host organization to distribute to worthy local charities. As another example, take the Waste Management Open in Phoenix, played last month. During nonpandemic years, the event raises more than $15 million per year for children’s hospitals, homeless shelters… you name it. The “Valley of the Sun” has living, breathing proof of the many benefits it has realized from hosting a PGA Tour event. Meanwhile in St. Louis, Hale Irwin and Joe Buck - who took over Hale’s charitable golf event 20 years ago - have literally built wings onto the already worldrenowned St. Louis Children’s Hospital. That’s right, wings! Dan Dierdorf and Bob Costas have focused their charitable attention on Cardinal Glennon Children’s Hospital, with similar results. Their main fundraiser every year is a golf event. I hope you never need to visit the ER at Cardinal Glennon, but if you do you will see it is aptly named after the NFL Hall of Fame lineman Dierdorf. Why is Dan not hosting a pickup or flag football game to raise money? Hmmm? That is just a glimpse of a really big and thriving machine. Golf - at both the amateur and professional levels - has worked charitable wonders. At the same time, the game has played a profound role in my life. My introduction to golf came in 1973 when, as a 12-year old, I began caddying at Norwood Hills CC , just a wide-eyed kid in search of something to help me accomplish my dreams. That is, I wanted to be a professional athlete. With my father, Jim Delsing, being a major league player, baseball was a natural choice. But there was nowhere to play after the church league ended. A handful of games and one practice a week was not going to cut it. At Norwood Hills, I was introduced to the caddie yard, where I learned how to swear (which I still do at a high level). I also learned to gamble, clean toilets, sweep parking lots and carry a bag for - at least what I thought - was a higher class of people, people I otherwise had no business meeting or knowing. My dad would drop me off when the sun came up every summer morning on his way to work and then scoop me back up come sundown. I learned to work hard, love being alone, and fall madly and
deeply in love with the game. As my game improved, so did my access to different courses, college and then a career. But most notably and most importantly for me were the people I met along the
As an adult I have also discovered, like many things in life that you love, your heart can get terribly broken and disappointed. Robert F. Kennedy once said, “Only those who dare to fail greatly can ever achieve greatly.” I didn’t feel I was being daring, I was just in love with the game. I learned quickly that tomorrow is/was always a new day, with new possibilities. I think about the financial impact the game has had on literally millions of families and I smile. I had the tiniest hand in that. I think of my life and journey in the game, the ups and downs. I think about the fact I didn’t become the best player in the world; I didn’t set the world ablaze with 18th hole dramatics at major championships, as I imagined I would. I didn’t achieve many of the other things that a youngster’s brain concocted while spending countless hours alone, hoofing hills and chasing hooks and slices. I think about all those things, and
I look at my daughters growing up, traveling, meeting new people and assaulting every swimming pool and hotel breakfast room we encountered. I think of the time we spilled a 15-pound bag of cat food directly in front of the manager of a “no pets allowed” hotel, and I laugh out loud. I think of the times as a teenager that I got to spend with my dad and brother on the lousy muni golf course that we thought was awesome. And it was. Lastly, I think about a 60-year-old dreamer (me), who got to live a life he imagined but probably didn’t deserve. And I am grateful, so very grateful. That is what is so great about golf.
