As I slowly crested the steep slope
up next to the 18th green, and then down around behind the
grandstands and past the clubhouse – pushing the empty pull golf cart, my eyes
began to well with emotion. I swallowed
hard and took in a fast deep breath in an effort to keep the burgeoning wave
from splashing over the edge. I pulled down
my white golf hat to try to disguise my stretched and distorted face.
Stephanie smiled at me, as her right
hand gestured to the area I should park the cart, and said, “You made it! Grab some lunch!” By the looks of the limited lunch offerings,
I must have been one of the last volunteers back from the golf course.
“I can’t believe I made it,” I
mumbled in response. She smiled. All I could think about was that six months
prior, I was dragging myself around in a wheelchair around the 5th
and 6th floors of the Rehabilitation Institute of Oregon, inside Good
Samaritan Hospital. They had me
doing intensive Physical and Occupational therapies every day for three
weeks. “No, really, I can’t believe I made it.”
Earlier that morning, as I took that cart out to the 5th hole
tee box for the shot gun start of the Pro-Am, I was pretty sure I was in over
my head. I was stumbling around awkwardly
on the uneven ground, quickly short of breath, and beginning to feel stress on
my weakened left side.
I didn’t want to say anything about
it to Stephanie, but out came a brief explanation about the stroke I
experienced last fall and how hard I have worked to essentially get to where I
was at that very moment. I couldn’t help
myself. I was brimming with pride, a
decidedly foreign feeling, and gratitude for all of the amazing help I have
received along the way from therapist’s Kate,
Denise, Adriane, Erin, and
especially the wonderful Jaime for
her miracle work over the last five months or so (I am still doing my
homework!!). Yes, I have worked really
hard to regain my independence, first and foremost, a truly underrated
thing. But the more focused direct and
immediate goal I have been striving for has been to be able to have the stamina,
balance, and ability to walk well enough in order to volunteer caddie for the
two annual Pro-Am’s and to be able to roam freely around all four days of the LPGA tournament: the Cambia Portland Classic. It may seem like a silly thing to be so
intent about, but if you’ve spent any time perusing these words I share here,
or have spent any time with me, you already know how much this all means.
Morgan Pressel
This was my 5th year volunteering as
a caddie and my 7th year in a row of attending and I am already
looking forward to next year’s event (hopefully, back in August where it
belongs). I have already espoused
endlessly about my enthusiasm for this tournament and my love of the LPGA (see
the rundown of last year’s event: SomethingMust Break), so I will try not to repeat myself too much about the quality
of the golf, the competition, and the approachability and friendliness of the
players, whom you get to see so up close – like a courtside seat for nearly
every shot. A quick example: it was
touching to see Morgan Pressel smile
and pick up a toddler who was stumbling toward her as she moved from the 15th
green to the 16th tee box – as Morgan (we’re on a first name basis)
gingerly returned the little girl to her rightful guardians and took a moment
to take a picture with the family and sign a golf ball, even though she was
really struggling through a terrible round of golf.
Brooke Henderson
Admittedly, the tournament lacked a
little spark for me this year. I have
lost my two favorite players to early retirement, first Leta Lindley in 2011 (see Summerside),
then Jee Young Lee last year. I found that I need to have a true rooting interest. Still, the tournament was really exciting
down the stretch until Brooke Henderson
grabbed a stranglehold on the lead for good by the 71st hole with an
impressive up and down, but I missed the intensity I have felt in previous
years – living and dying with every shot of a particular player. There are so many great players to root for,
I am having difficulty picking one!! Plus,
I continue to bring some kind of curse to the players I go out to watch hole to
hole (is it my deodorant?). They seem to
play fine until I show up (see the Morgan Pressel example above). How often does one see a player shank a shot
into a tree and have the tree keep the ball?
Hello penalty stroke. Hello
triple bogey. My apologies, Victoria Elizabeth.
Victoria Elizabeth
In the end, however, this one was
more for me and my own goals. I made it!! I tracked just over 72,000 steps on the
course watching these talented women over four days (one of the sponsors was handing
out pedometers in an effort to raise charitable dollars), when it was only a
few weeks ago that I was still relying heavily on the use of a cane to get
around. Now that I have managed to do
that, I know I can continue to work
to get better. There is still a long way
to go and likely a lot of frustrating challenges ahead, but I needed to make it through this big event
to prove to myself that I still have the will to keep on.
