Wed, 01 May 2024 22:03:15 -0700WeeblySun, 24 Jul 2022 07:24:52 GMThttp://trevonbranch.website/blog/trevon-branch-golf-early-summers​     I spent my summers in Wisconsin with my mother. She was remarried and lived next to several golf courses. In the evening I would walk along the train tracks with my four clubs with my 2 good friends. We play golf together every summer. We didn’t have much money and we snuck on to par three courses after 6 PM. The back nine was a favorite because we did not have to walk by the pro shop. Usually, we could play these last nine holes over and over again because there were so few golfers with which to contend. We bet a quarter a hole but the competition was very intense. We got to the point that a bogey was a bad score and birdies were just as likely as pars. When it got too dark to play off the tees we would find the hole that had the most light and we would take shots from difficult lies and see who could get it closest to the pin. Our parents were a stone’s throw away and only required that we call periodically. One of our dads would pick us up when it was 9:30 PM. Our golf outings were encouraged because we all had legitimate chances to earn scholarships as college dreams became more and more realistic.
My favorite club was my sand wedge. I fantasized about playing against Tiger woods using nothing but this favorite club. I could hit my sand wedge 100 yards time and time again at the age of fourteen. Around the green, I could chip over bunkers or play a bump and run on almost any terrain. Other players had several wedges they used inside of 50 yards. I primarily used my sand iron. A gap wedge or a pitching wedge was always plan-B inside of 50 yards. I could vary the loft by placing the ball at different points in my stance. I could hit a knock-down shot that only hopped once or I could fly it past the hole and get it to spin back. My friends back at school would come out to watch some of my golf tournaments. They began to call me “Short game Sean” and I developed quite a little following by the time I was a sophomore in high school. Even the highly respected football and basketball stars appreciated my golfing prowess. I was offered free private lessons because people wanted to be associated with my brand. ]]>Sun, 24 Jul 2022 07:20:29 GMThttp://trevonbranch.website/blog/trevon-branch-golfer-early-years      I worked my way around the golf course next to my father’s retirement home. Golf had been his one true love after his marriage didn’t work out. We spent hours talking about the PGA tour during the day and after he dozed off I would spend my time pitching and chipping and hitting from the sand bunkers. My goal was to become a Masters's champion. I was young and determined. While my friends played video games I was hitting chip after chip using a variety of swings. If I could get it within a certain radius of the flagstick I would move on to the next club in my bag. Occasionally I would spot a golf cart in the distance and I would wait underneath the trees. The other patrons of the course did not care as long as I was on the green before they hit their approach shots. After all, I was a pretty innocuous-looking fourteen-year-old kid dressed in golf gear in an upper-white class suburb of Maine. There was not a lot to be concerned about. As soon as they picked up their balls from the final putts and got back in their cart I was back to work. I would place ten balls in the greenside bunker and hit all of them until I could claim that an up and down was all but guaranteed. Then it was on to the next bunker. I learned to envision my landing area and even create a back spin if I had a shallow lie. If the ball was buried I would pick a closer target and let the ball roll out to the hole. I learned not to get frustrated because I did not want to embarrass myself when I played college golf after high school. My father instilled in me how important an even temperament and good sportsmanship were in the time-honored tradition of golf.
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