When I graduated from the University of Houston last May, I thought I had the next 18 months mapped out: first, caddie for my childhood friend (Matthew Riedel) on the Korn Ferry Tour for eight tournaments. Then, return to play my final season on the golf team. And finally, start an MBA program that I’d lobbied my way into.
That was the plan.
So, on June 1st, I hopped on a flight to meet Matthew in Atlanta for U.S. Open sectionals, no idea what was ahead of me. It took me about three days to realize how tied down I was to my plan. And it took me four to verbalize that to Matthew. Even though I’d put considerable effort into getting accepted into that MBA program, I knew this was a unique opportunity. The chance to caddie for a friend chasing his dreams — does it get any better than that? And school just sounded… pedestrian. There’s always time for grad school.
Four weeks later, he poured in a 15-footer to finish 2nd in Colorado. Sold. I called my coach. I emailed my academic advisor. Thanks, but no thanks. And that was that. Ever since, I’ve been traveling the country with a heavy bag on my shoulder.
Off we went. Denver. Springfield. Chicago. Salt Lake. Omaha. The Jersey Shore. Columbus. Nashville. Fly, play, repeat. The summer flew by. The weeks blended — early mornings, late flights, new cities. A blur.
But at every event, there was something that kept catching my eye…
Socks.
Those damned smiley socks. They were everywhere. Every caddie. Every player. On the range. On the podium after a win. There they were. Subtle. Cheerful. Charming. Eventually, I had to ask someone: what’s the deal with these socks?
They’re a golf sock company called Del Campo. They have a program for professional caddies and players. Affordable, but more importantly, fashionable socks. I was on their website that night. After a few weeks of deliberation and hmmmmming/hawwwwing (yeah I know, commitment issues)… I ordered five pairs. Three smileys, two striped. They arrived on my doorstep before the playoffs commenced in Boise.
They’ve been on my feet ever since.
They accompanied me to Columbus when we finished one shot away from retaining full Korn Ferry Tour status. They joined me in Philadelphia where I spent 5 weeks caddying and running up the Rocky Steps. They were on my feet during the final round of Q-School where Matthew slipped in a five-footer to secure his PGA Tour card. They’ve visited Tampa and San Diego. Vancouver and Toronto. Puerto Rico and the Dominican Republic. Canada and Mexico. They’ve been in weddings. They’ve run a marathon. Hit steakhouses and (countless) coffee shops. But most importantly, they’re worn during every tournament round.
My good luck charm.
Somewhere along the way, I realized joining Del Campo was the next step in my journey. Writing crossed with fashion – a combo tailor-made for me. But more importantly, an opportunity I was excited about. I’ve spent the last dozen months cataloging my travels: the good, the bad, and the ugly. The triumphs. The failures. The lonely hours in an airport. The many observations.
Now, I finally get to share them.
This blog — or newsletter, or whateveryouwannacallit — is my way of showing you a little bit of my world. Some days, I’ll dive into the golf course we’re playing or give a behind-the-scenes look at life on TOUR. Other days, some scorch-the-earth takes on golf fashion. Occasionally, I’ll fixate on socks. And sometimes, it’ll be the raw, unglamorous truth about trying to hang onto our PGA Tour card as a rookie. I won’t bore you with lengthy pieces on why Scottie is better than Rory. I won’t drag you through the mud while trying to explain why a Raynor beats a Mackenzie (ew). But I might tell you why socks are important. Or why Croakies aren’t fashionable. Or what it’s like to be on the road for six straight weeks.
Plans are meant to be changed. Degrees are supposed to be procrastinated on. Writing was meant to be shared. I hope you guys enjoy.
Cheers,
Drew Murdock aka Murda (every author needs a pen name, right?)
