How It All Began

The golf seed was planted in Bay City, Michigan when I was 3 years old. My grandfather went out to the garage, sawed off three of his clubs, wrapped the tops with duck tape for grips, and we hopped the wooden fence in the back yard to go play a few holes at the Bay Valley Inn. For the next eight years, I loved watching the ball fly through the air, in all those crazy directions. I loved the feeling I would get to my core when every so often, I would finally get that pure contact. Most of all, I loved walking those same four holes each night in the summer after my grandfather returned home from work. Golf was our activity. I only played golf while I was with him, and we only played those same four holes. The lessons my grandfather taught me on those walks have stuck with me.

Where do I want to end up?
Where should I go with this shot to give me the best opportunity on the next shot?
This is where my ball lies, whether I like it or not, this is the shot I have.
Make the most of this shot?
When is it smart to layup?
When is it time to go for it?
Honesty and integrity are the pillars of golf.

At the time I thought my grandfather was just teaching me about golf, I realized later that he was using golf as an analogy for life.

When I was 22, my roommate from college said let’s go play some golf. It had been years since I had played with my grandfather. We headed out to the Wilmette public course for my first 18-hole round. Playing without my grandfather and the addition of the extra 14 holes changed my experience. I was hooked. I played as much and as often as I could. Fortunately for me, my 12 year old brother became my new golf partner. He was a single digit handicap. I was not, however we both loved the game and wanted to play as much as possible, no matter the conditions. I remember having to bring a broom with us for one round at the Deer Path golf course after Thanksgiving one year so that we could sweep off the dusting of snow that fell the night before on the greens. The course wasn’t even open, but knowing that the Chicago winter was going to shut us out of playing for months, we had to get our last fix in before the golf hibernation began. I still loved the feeling of a pure swing and a pure contact. Most of all, I loved playing with my brother, even though I can count the times I have beaten him on one hand, and I don’t need all the fingers.

Golf is such an incredible game that has given me so much over the years. When I say I love the game, I really mean it.

Patrick Gibbons Handmade is born from this.