The Long Game:
Our Story

From Father to Son, From Fairway to Memory

I've spent my entire life immersed in the world of golf, a sport that has become an inseparable part of who I am. Growing up on a golf course, my father's influence ignited a passion that has stayed with me for decades. With each swing and round, I discovered more than just a sport—I found lessons in patience, perseverance, and the quiet joy that comes from steady improvement.

For me, golf isn't merely a pastime—it's a compass for navigating life, a constant that has provided grounding through both personal triumphs and challenges.

As the years passed, my love for golf deepened, evolving from a personal journey into something far more meaningful—a way to forge deeper connections with others. The game has blessed me with rounds on some of the world's finest courses and introductions to people from all walks of life, each with their own unique relationship to the game.

Yet for all the spectacular courses and memorable tournaments, nothing compares to a casual nine holes with my sons or those putting contests with my 81-year-old dad (who, I should mention, still manages to win most of them).

The Birth of "Dear Golf..."

The idea for this journal was born from a simple realization: our most precious golf memories deserve better than to fade with time. With the creative partnership of my son Carter, we set out to create not just a record-keeping tool, but a legacy-building companion for every golfer.

"Dear Golf... Thanks For The Memories" is the culmination of three generations of golf passion, designed to help you chronicle your journey through this magnificent game—from your greatest shots to your favorite courses, from tournament triumphs to those perfect, quiet moments when it's just you and the course.

We hope this journal becomes a treasured part of your golf story, preserving moments that might otherwise be lost to time and creating a personal history you can one day share with those who matter most.

After all, our scores may fade, but our stories shouldn't have to.