Text Size

The Athlete, Retired

By Rhonda Glenn, USGA

Rhonda Glenn, a longtime competitive golfer, has also found fulfillment in her work for the USGA. (John Mummert/USGA)

Ocala, Fla. - The athlete, long past the glory days, sits in the sun and watches the players trudge up to the 18th green. The card says 353 yards, but the hole has a long, uphill approach. She remembers so well, blessed and cursed with quick, clear memories humming fast as bees.

The picture flashes at a speed beyond comprehension. A movie, so long ago, so very clear, whirring so fast that that she pauses to catch and relish it:

Click – State championship. This course. Her grandparents walk among the oak trees. The semifinal against the Curtis Cup player. The tee shot. Don’t hook it. Drive with the legs! Nine-iron to the green. Flagstick a bit more left, but center. Eight-footer for birdie. Ball disappears. Victory, 1 up.

It’s always like that. And there was the physical part of it, the trusted strength and coordination that never let her down. She could watch a football game and, sitting on the couch, feel her muscles tighten and leap as, in her mind, she ran down the field, straining to catch the ball in the glare of the sun. Stretching high, reaching for the ball, seeing it spiral, peak and drop into her arms. She could sit there and watch and know that she could do it. She never would, of course. Even sandlot football games are long past. But she knew she could.

Click – The Olympics. With her little brother erecting hurdles in the back yard. Putting up the high jump  frame, shoveling white sand into the pit. Running downhill, barefoot, faster and faster until her skinny little legs threatened to go out from under her, feeling as if she could take off and fly.

Later, all of that effort would be translated into golf and she approached practice with a heavy hand, beating balls for hours, chipping, putting, slurping water and playing some more. Round after round after round. Swinging, watching the ball soar so far into the distance that she felt as if she were trying to speak to God.

Click – The State High School Championship. First round. Three over par with three to play against the heavily favored, highly publicized opponent. Par-3 hole. Six-footer for birdie. Par-5 hole. Chip from below the bank, up over the swale, into the hole for eagle. Par-4 hole. Trees right and left. Take it back as slowly as you ever have in your life. High soaring drive. Nine-iron to 2 feet. The ball rolls, slow motion. Birdie. Three-stroke lead. Two days later, another win.

So very long ago. The people mostly gone. Then, a year ago, the dreaded disease. The surgery. The agonizing pain and weeks in bed. The legs, withered and weak. But then, the blessed and wonderful game. The old clubs. A few new balls. Nine holes every day in the twilight, sometimes in the rain. Swinging. Rediscovering the rhythm and hopefully the grace. Fifteen yards lost, perhaps never to return. Lying awake, thinking about the grip and the transition, anything not to think of the disease. Day after day, trying to speak to God.

Rhonda Glenn is a Manager of Communications for the USGA. E-mail her with questions or comments at rglenn@usga.org.