Which golf trophies and trinkets do you throw away?
Doesn’t matter if you’re Tiger Woods or Joe Bloggs. Hang around golf long enough and you’re bound to collect an obscene amount of paraphernalia and memorabilia: trophies, pewter mugs, plates, bag tags that could double as branding irons, giant ball markers, shoe bags, paperweights, even a surprisingly heavy and well-crafted trophy from a 1992 Sunday morning putting competition (or is that just me?).
With my elderly mother recently having to relocate for medical reasons, my siblings and I suddenly found ourselves helping Mum put our childhood home up for sale. Nothing fully prepares you for saying goodbye to the place where life – and in my case, golf – began. I haven’t lived in the New South Wales Riverina town of Hay for some 22 years, yet I’ve always considered it “home”. My old bedroom still looks the same way I left it, and I can still make out the lining of the backyard green I crafted all those years ago when I picked up a club for the first time. But I digress.
In packing, I confronted a cupboard full of old golf trophies that hadn’t seen the light of day since I skipped town. Pre-warned by my wife to be ruthless during the clean-up and to not come home with anything unnecessary, I found myself in a deep sentimental grapple. These were awards that I had no recollection of receiving, so why was chucking out this dusty hoard such a struggle for me? Why was the Under-13 Junior Champion trophy convincing me it still had a place in my life?
As my American colleague Max Adler recently penned of a similar struggle, value is relative. “My little accomplishments might impress some, though, of course, for thousands of better golfers they would register as hardly anything,” Adler wrote.
For me, the most difficult thing to throw away was not the trophies themselves, it was the fear of throwing away the memories of one of the great periods of my life. These inanimate objects were taking me on a retrospective ride back to when life was so much simpler – the country life. School on grassed ovals, not concrete. A night sky with the entire galaxy in full view. Walking down the street or riverbend with my mates, unsupervised, with not a fear in the world. And playing golf on oiled-up sand greens, not the immaculately mown and rolled grass we’ve become accustomed to today.
Once upon a time, those pewter mugs housed in purple satin cases acknowledged my superiority on monthly medal day. Staring at them today, they trigger something so much more valuable that I’m not quite ready to let go, not yet, no matter how pathetic my better half thinks I am for hanging onto awards from my school days. They will surely find a new dark corner in my shed.
Another object that gave me pause was an old, brown leather golf bag in the shed. Inside it sat my first-ever set of proper golf clubs – Kel Nagles with blades quite literally like butter knives. The shafts were all rusted and crooked but when old-timers remind me how good blokes were back in the glory days, I genuinely believe them. How on earth did I learn to find the middle of these, I thought? Though they’d be a cool keepsake from a past era of club-making excellence (I loved that bloody 2-iron), there’s no way I’m convincing ‘the boss’ of their worth in our new home.
My brother took my old red ‘shag bag’, still loaded with ’80s and ’90s-era balls. After a few trips to his local course, they ended up on eBay for an absolute steal. Fair enough. I’d had two decades to claim those relics. I wish I had his ruthless streak.
“One of the great wisdoms I’m trying to remember is the impermanence of all things,” Adler continues. “The experience is what mattered and continues to matter, not the souvenir.”
My New Year’s resolution is to take that sage advice onboard and “let go”. Cherish the memories, not the material. Some unsolicited advice for tournament organisers: if you want your awards to endure, the smaller the better.
Speaking of awards, our cover star, Collin Morikawa, has won the game’s oldest trophy but keeps his in a closet. To hear Morikawa explain it, he won’t display any of his trophies until he’s done winning them. With his exclusive tips on playing ‘genius golf’, you could soon be adding to your silverware collection, too. Just know when to let them go.
• Which golf trophy or trinket are you loath to throw out and why? E-mail me at [email protected]
