Rooting for Dyl at the NESCAC Golf Championship

And Some Thoughts on the Gap Year

It seems like I spend the majority of my waking hours involved with the game of golf. Friday, I caddied during the morning and later slipped out of the house for five holes at sunset. Today, I arrived at the club at 7:00 AM for another loop. Though it was a gorgeous morning out at New Haven, I had a different golf course on my mind. I did everything in my power to speed our group's pace of play, because I knew that the sooner we finished, the sooner I could jump in the car to go see my friend Dylan Dethier tee it up in the NESCAC Championship. 

This spring Trinity hosts the tournament since they were the top qualifier in the fall. Hamden isn't far from Hartford, and Trinity plays at a course fifteen minutes south of the city--even better for me. At 12:05 the final putt dropped for my group, and after hastily pocketing a two fifty dollar bills from Mr. Early and Mr. Garcia, I raced out of the parking lot--off to my second golf course of the day. 

I've mentioned Dylan on this blog many times for many reasons. I've known him since we were at Mt. Greylock together, and though he's already a junior at Williams, I often saw him around town or out on Taconic. Last winter, when I officially decided to take a gap year, Dyl was one of the first people I reached out to. I remember sitting in his dorm room in maybe March of last year, talking about all of my plans as we relived many of his successes and failures during his gap year. Though I wouldn't be on the road all year long like he was during his forty-eight state golfing escapade, I knew he was an invaluable source of information. He went through a year of solo travel and blogged the entire way, and these were two things around which I structured my year. I followed his blog religiously during his gap year, and his stories inspired me to seek similar adventures. Without Dylan, I doubt I would've planned any type of road trip. Now I've lived through six weeks on the road. I can definitely relate to what he experienced, and that makes me all the more excited for his book, 18 in America, which comes out on May 21. 

The last time I watched Dyl play golf was exactly a year ago, when Williams hosted the NESCAC tourney at Taconic. I was enjoying senior year, preparing for prom and graduation, and somewhat glad that I didn't have to start worrying about college quite yet. I had other worries, of course, but it's safe to say that those plans turned out better than I ever could've imagined. When you plan a big adventure, you focus on the big things, but when you experience that big adventure, it's the little things that stand out the most. It was impossible for me to foresee things like morning bike rides, hours spent passing the time on train rides, runs on the beach, or a quick five-hole loop at sunset. But I can't imagine my year without these little bits of happiness that I discovered for myself.

Today I found myself walking the front nine of Shuttle Meadow Golf Club in reverse, passing four groups of college golfers before meeting Dyl's foursome on the seventh green. The weather was perfect for golf; only the occasional flower petal fell from the sky in the soft spring breeze. I quickly found Dylan's mom, who was thrilled and a little surprised to see me. It took a few minutes of explaining how and why I came to be living in Hamden, but I was happy to explain my situation and talk about the previous phases of my gap year. Soon I was introduced to other parents--a couple living in Middlebury whose son went to Hamilton, and a Middlebury mom who had one son playing and another set to join me in the Class of 2017. Our small crowd followed the group through the turn and onwards to the back nine. These were the top golfers on their respective teams (Williams, Middlebury, Hamilton, and Trinity) and though they all struggled with consistency at times, they were all capable of pulling off incredible shots. Dyl carded an even-par 37 on the front and scrambled his was to a solid back nine score. On sixteen, he skied a short-iron that just cleared the top of a tree before landing pin-high on the back of the green. On eighteen, after driving right into the the tenth fairway, Dyl hit a high hooking three-wood from 270 to twenty feet, reaching the par five in two. After tapping in a birdie putt, he finished the day at one-over 72. Williams carded a team total of 292, but Trinity used its home-course advantage to shoot a 290. In team play, two shots is certainly not a safe lead, and hopefully by tomorrow afternoon, Williams will walk off the course as NESCAC Champions and earn an NCAA bid. (I'd love it if Middlebury made a run at it, too, but they're much farther off the lead). 

I've known the NESCAC for as long as I can remember. It's far and away the best DIII conference, and competition is always close. I'm only months away now from my first NESCAC game (September 7 at Amherst, if anyone wants to mark the calendar that far in advance), and I can't wait to finally be a part of the action that I've loved as a fan for so long. Still, I'm not quite ready to be done with this gap year. Maybe I never will be. As I do almost every time I'm out on a golf course, today I reflected on my year and my adventures. Every time I meet someone new and tell them my story, I'm happy that I've had the chance to do this. Dylan was in my shoes three years ago, and his college career has turned out just fine. I know that I'm on the same path. Four months from now I'll be moving in at Middlebury, and I couldn't be more excited. For now, I'm going to enjoy each beautiful spring day and make the most out the final stages of this year. It's been a lot of fun, and following Dylan around today on the course was no exception. 

Work, and Lots of It

Doubling Up at the Restaurant and Country Club

Everyone has had days where there isn't a minute of free time. It's been five full weeks here in Hamden for me, and up until my return from Martha's Vineyard this past Tuesday, I've felt that I've balanced my work schedule and my free time well. My goal has always been to put in hours and make money, and I've managed to do that while still having fun. 

Carts lined up and ready to go for the Opening Day tournament

Then, before I realized what was happening, my work schedule jumped up a few notches--perhaps one too many. It was the perfect storm of extra shifts at Park Central plus opening day tournaments at New Haven Country Club, and the hours began to pile up like debris in a flood. Now, on my first night off since the Vineyard, I have time to take a breath. Five hectic days have passed, and I'm still here--exhausted, but a fair bit richer. 

Our PCT entrance sign

When you add up my shifts at the restaurant, work at the golf course, and loops as a caddy from Wednesday through Sunday, the hours total approximately 53. Tack on five from Tuesday night and five more from today at the course, and that's a lot of work in six days. I'm certainly not complaining;  I write this only to give a realistic picture of the third phase of my gap year. Maybe it's not as glamorous as jam-packed days of traveling around Europe, but I know that this type of experience is different than anything I've done before. 

There was plenty of excitement wrapped up in the course of my work shifts, and the best thing is the "we're all in this together" attitude I share with my co-workers at both the restaurant and the golf course. When I'm tired of bussing tables, I know I can go to Derrek or Conor for a laugh. And when I've picked the range for the fourth time in six hours, I know I can talk golf with Alex or Jaimie to put my mind at ease. It's nice that so many of my co-workers are young like me. We all have our gripes, but at the end of the day, we're all willing to work hard, refer to people as "ma'am" and "sir," and try to have a little bit of fun in the process. 

The flag flies at full-mast again at New Haven Country Club

I did manage to enjoy a quick eighteen holes and a meal at Park Central this evening. Even though I haven't had single opportunity to play for quite some time, I managed to hit the ball straight today. I know that most weeks won't be quite this crazy. I'll have time for more rounds of golf and a trip here and there. And I know that plenty of friends and family are lined up to visit. I like always having something to look forward to. Whether that's a day off or a summer up at Camp Dudley, I'll never have any complaints when I'm in the twelfth hour of a long day of work. 

Vacationing with the Foehls on Martha's Vineyard

Three days of the best of life on the island

My first month here in Hamden, CT has flown by. Maybe it's because I'm working--and working a lot--or maybe it's because spring is finally upon us. It's been difficult at times, but there's been plenty of fun to go around. Still, when I made plans with our family friends, the Foehls, to visit them on Martha's Vineyard over their April break, the trip immediately became something to look forward to. 

Just like that, my visit with the Foehls has come and gone. Seeing Martha's Vineyard for the first time was special, but sharing it with friends made it one of my favorite adventures of the year. The island was still waking up from a quiet winter and nowhere near as busy as the summertime, but from what I experienced, I can see why MV is an incredible place to be at any time of the year.

A view of the sailboats anchored in the bay from the ferry

I spent months in Germany "catching" trains; this past Sunday, I felt the same urgency as I did in Germany, when I drove towards Woods Hole, MA to catch the outbound 10:45 ferry. I hurried, because like all of my travels in Germany, I was excited about my destination. To me, Martha's Vineyard always seemed like just another place to spend a vacation on the ocean, and the only context I had were stories from the Foehls and images from Jaws. As I rode on the top deck of the ferry, however, each new glimpse of the island made me more and more excited. I sat in the same place two days later, heading back to my parked car, wishing I had a day or two more to spend on the island.

Wiffle Ball, Backgammon, and Nighttime Walks

The Foehls have a pretty incredible set-up in Edgartown--one of three main settlements on the Vineyard. Their house--which they share with extended family--sits just a minute's walk away from the ocean, the tennis courts, and the main streets of Edgartown. I'll compare their house to our Storey Farm up in Westport, NY, just because it seems that in both places, there's always enough beds for another visitor. Outside, the yard sets up well for some epic home run derby wiffel ball games. In my first day, we packed in back-to-back sessions of tennis and wiffle ball. Along with Jake, Brady, and Toby Foehl, we had three more boys to fill the batting order--Nate, Zach, and Chaz Orluk, which made for some competitive innings, especially when the younger ones were pitching. 

At Flying Horses with the MV crew; L-R Toby & Brady Foehl,
Rick & Nate Orluk, Jake Foehl, Chaz and Zach Orluk, and myself

When we weren't playing outside, backgammon was the game of choice. Jake taught me to play the first night, and I think he regrets it, because I won five in a row against him in the following two days. We'll see how well my brother Sam fares in his visit with the rest of my family. (It was a shame we couldn't line up our visits, but work got in the way for me, and I'm just happy I was able to make the trip). 

Another staple of a good Vineyard day is the nighttime walk. I came at the right time, because the clear skies yielded starry views that rivaled the most perfect nights up at Camp Dudley. The streets were quiet and dark on our walks, and when we snuck through backyards along the water, not a single light could be seen. It was a far cry from how the place looks in the summertime, but that was alright, because we could have all of the stars for ourselves. I took nighttime walks while in Florida with Mommom and Babo as well. I guess when you are somewhere beautiful, it's nice to appreciate it all hours of the day.

Mini-golf, Flying Horses, and Long Runs

My one and only full day with the Foehls was packed with fun and excitement. After a morning walk through the main streets of Edgartown with Brooks and Jake Foehl and Rick Orluk, we prepared for a mini-golf competition. Three teams of three in a best ball match. I was paired with Jake and Chaz. Though we got off to a slow start, I thought our score of sixteen on the back nine would be enough to take the grand prize. Even Chaz, just a first-grader, came through in the clutch and aced the eighteenth for our team. I thought my 41 would hold up as the best individual score, too, but it was Brady Foehl who carried his team to a one-stroke victory, shooting an incredible 37 all by himself.

The next phase of our outing was truly a MV specialty--a trip to Flying Horses. It's the oldest carousel in the country, and you ride around grabbing silver rings from a little holder while the music plays. When the music stops, you know the one-and-only brass ring has been dropped in the chute, and it's only a matter of time until the lucky person grabs it. Some people are talented enough to grab two, three, or more rings each time they pass, which increases your chance of getting the brass ring. Though it seems like complete luck, getting the winning ring can be more of a science if you ride it enough. Yeah, I'm talking about you, Black Dog and Little JoJo. Don't ask. But maybe if you ride on the Flying Horses, you'll see them, and you'll know what I'm talking about. It was easily the best two carousel rides that I can remember. And a side note: my favorite band, Dispatch, sings a song about the Flying Horses and stealing the brass ring. It's a great song.

Stopping for an ideal photo-op on our run

I found myself running a lot while on MV. A bunch of us went out for a sightseeing/trespassing run later that afternoon, which included stops on the Edgartown golf course and in someone's lawn to snap a photo overlooking the ocean. Still, it's my run with Brooks on the following morning that I'll remember every time I think of MV. We left the house and the town early on Tuesday morning. By the second mile we were following a bike path heading towards the southeast tip of the island. At the four mile mark we stopped to climb the dunes and look over South Beach--twenty miles of picturesque sand and dunes. During the sixth mile we made the turn homewards. Each mile we increased our speed, until the ninth and fastest mile dropped us off back at the house. It was probably the longest run of my life, and definitely longer than anything I've done since last summer. I could feel the muscle soreness setting in right away, but it was worth it. And so was my breakfast, the "B-52 Bomber" plate at the Airport Diner. I certainly earned my final meal, though I may have indulged in a cup of chowder on the ferry heading back to the mainland.

I wish I was still vacationing on the Vineyard. I can't thank the Foehls enough for hosting me and showing me around. Everything I saw--from the house to Edgartown to the beaches--was even better than I expected. I can only hope that my family enjoys the same amount of fun during their visit. Though it's back to work for me, I'm so glad I had the chance to spend a few days with the Foehls in their favorite place. MV is definitely one of my new favorites, too.

In the Middle of America's Hockey Capital of 2013

Fewer than ten miles separate Ingalls Rink from the TD Bank Sports Center. Two hockey areas in the neighboring towns of New Haven and Hamden host two teams who will compete on Saturday for a NCAA National Championship--the Yale University Bulldogs and the Quinnipiac University Bobcats. And here I am, typing after this evening's entertaining television (Yale beat UMASS-Lowell 3-2 in OT, Quinnipiac won 4-1 against St. Cloud St), located at just about the halfway point between the two universities.

Hockey is king in the Hamden-New Haven area, and I've known that for a long time. I've enjoyed listening in on hockey conversations every time I visit, though most of the time, it's only my dad and my uncle Harry reciting the rosters from their state championship teams at Hamden High and trying to solve the never-ending argument of which squad was better (general consensus is that the 1986 team would top the 1976 team, but not by much). Now though, when I'm working in Park Central Tavern or at the country club, it seems that everyone is fascinated by the Frozen Four and the teams of Yale and Quinnipiac. 

You can imagine that everyone here is thrilled that both teams navigated their way though the semifinals on Thursday night. Now, the Bulldogs and the Bobcats will face off Saturday evening for the national title. It doesn't matter that Quinnipiac is 3-0 against Yale this season with a 13-3 goal differential; no, this is a title game. Sixty minutes (and overtime if necessary) of hockey for all the marbles. 

(Obligatory picture of Augusta National)

The Masters tournament has become my unofficial/official start of spring. When the best in the world roll into Augusta, I deem any chance of more wintery weather from here on absolutely preposterous. Still, while I drool over the manicured fairways of the world's most perfect golf course this Saturday, I'll be happy to give a one-day pass to an icier sport so that I can witness the Yale-Quinnipiac battle and join in the appreciation for this hockey-crazed area. It ought to be a good one. 

My First and Probably Most Exceptional Caddying Loop of the Spring

It might be hard to believe, but the first email I sent after deciding to take a gap year way back in December of 2011 was to my uncle Harry, saying, among other things, that it would be so cool if I could caddy at the New Haven Country Club in the spring of my year between high school and college. Many emails were composed since then, and so many ideas turned into reality even before I had the chance to come to Hamden. Still, I always had the prospect of caddying in the back of my mind.

When I learned earlier this week that I could begin looping at the New Haven Country Club, I was excited to say the least. I spent Wednesday out on the course, pacing off yardages, sizing up greens, and jotting down numbers in a pocket notebook. I already knew the course well, but I wanted to be prepared for my first loop. 

NHCC's classic clubhouse at sunset

Fast-forward a day. I'm digging through the trunk of my car for extra layers to battle the bitter April wind. I've been told my group will tee off between noon and one, so naturally, it's one-thirty and I've already been in my caddy bib for two hours. The peanut butter crackers I brought as a snack for the turn are already gone. It's been fun talking with Alex, a new assistant pro at the club, but we're both bored. 

Finally, our group arrives. First it's Doc and Chris--two young members sporting wind jackets tough enough to handle Scotland's heaviest gales. Then Don shows up, who is Doc's father and today's host. Last it's our guests. Rounding out the five-some are Israel and Oliver Horovitz. The name Oliver Horovitz probably doesn't click with too many people, but after a brief second, I realize I've seen that name somewhere recently. Then it registers. Oliver is the author of a recently published book about his personal experiences caddying in St. Andrews, Scotland--home of the Old Course. It's titled An American Caddy in St. Andrews, and I considered buying it a few weeks ago before I had any idea I would be caddying for the author. 

I can't believe it. First, I realize that this best-selling memoir probably makes Oliver one of the most famous caddies in the world at the moment. He's been featured on Golf.com and he's been a guest on CBS's morning news show. Seeing as I can't name any caddy besides Joey LaCava, who carries Tiger's bag, I figure he's probably had more publicity than almost any looper on the PGA Tour. Second, I can't wait to pick his brain for inside information about golf in Scotland, and especially at St. Andrews. I was incredibly fortunate to spend almost a week in Scotland during the fall, and as I detailed in this blogpost, I had the chance to spend a day in St. Andrews--exploring the town and walking the Old Course. I felt like I already had a small connection to Oliver. And St. Andrews aside, he and I share the fact that we both took gap years. I believe that only those who take a gap year themselves truly understand how transformative the experience can be. Third, I think of my friend Dylan Dethier and his coming-of-age golf journey, which also inspired him to write a book, titled 18 in America. I wonder in Oliver has even heard of Dylan's book. Lastly, it clicks that I have a stern task ahead of me. Even though he's never played at New Haven before, his caddying skills are lightyears ahead of mine. I know I'll be able to fake my way around the course, but not on the greens. If he can read the greens on the Old Course, these will be no problem.

We tee off, and soon I'm having just as much fun as I did when I walked the Old Course back in October. As I steer Oliver around the course (he also had three members offering tips and hints), I start to ask questions and share my own story. The minute I explain that I'm still fully engulfed in my gap year, I sense a closer interest in Oliver. Soon, I barely notice I'm caddying. I'm having a blast showing Oliver around my newest home course. From experience, I know to avoid the impossible questions (What's being a caddy at St. Andrews like?). I always struggled to answer the "How was Germany?" question. I was often tempted to say, "Just go read my blog!" I knew I would have to go read Oliver's book to find all of my answers. I soon discover that Oliver went to Williams Golf Camp at Taconic, that his dad has had work featured in the Williamstown Theater Festival, and that professional golfers who try to hit lob wedges from seventy yards on the Old Course suddenly start to score like a ten-handicap. Oh, I also find out that he's already heard a lot about my friend Dylan and his book, and he thinks it's an awesome story.

I'm a little thankful that Oliver's golf game is a bit rusty. It's early in the season, so many of his draws come out more like hooks and the majority of putts end up short. Still, I can tell he has a serious game--one especially fit for links golf in Scotland. I give him my best yardage estimates and green reads, and we manage to make it around the course without losing a golf ball. I feel I've done enough to call this loop a success.

I've known for a long time that golf is an incredible way to connect with people, and that extends to caddying. Still, I had no idea that making such a noteworthy connection as a caddy would happen so quickly! After our round ends, Oliver disappears for a minute and returns with a signed copy of his book. I thank him and promise that I will get him a copy of 18 in America. Golf is more than just a game, and I think that both Dylan's and Oliver's stories prove that experiences out on the course are ones you keep for a lifetime.

I found myself awake at 2:00 AM that night, still reading. And now, I've finished. I can honestly say that I didn't want Oliver's stories to end. Not because they were funny or riveting or powerful; not because they painted a picture of St. Andrews so vivid that I found myself longing to return; not because they taught me so many things about the game of golf and the role of a caddy. They were all of these and more. But the biggest reason I loved the book and didn't want it to end was because I could relate to Oliver's experiences in their most fundamental state. At its core, Oliver's story is about a high school graduate uprooting for a year to have an adventure and discover something more. As spring dawns upon us, I'm getting closer to the the end of my gap year. Still, I'm very much engulfed in all of these new experiences that have made my year so transformative. It's so cool when I hear the stories of a "gap year alum," especially when they take some part of their year off and translate it into something bigger down the road. I found so many places in Oliver's book where I wholeheartedly agreed with his thoughts and feelings. I can relate to falling in love with a place thousands of miles from home. Oliver made it a point to return to St. Andrews year after year, and I know that it won't be long until I return to Germany. And you never know. Maybe I'll spend a semester abroad in Scotland, perhaps at the University of St. Andrews. I may not devote myself to caddying like Oliver, but being in Scotland sounds like a pretty cool way to spend a few months abroad.

An American Caddy in St. Andrews is an awesome book written by a really cool guy. Oliver captures a lot more than just golf in his pages. I'd certainly suggest reading it.

A Quick Trip Home For Easter

I'll go ahead and state the obvious: Hamden, CT is a lot closer to home than Florida or Germany. This makes the potential of returning home only a snap decision away. So although I am not homesick (in fact I'm enjoying phase three of the gap year just as much as my grander adventures), I know it's only slightly longer than two hours in the car if I need or want to visit home.

Easter family gathering - Sam, Miranda, Mommom, and Cindy!

This past Easter weekend was my first of what will probably be a handful of quick decisions to swing by Williamstown. I found out that Park Central Tavern didn't need my assistance all weekend until the dinner shift on Sunday night, so plans were quickly set for an overnight trip. I left bright and early on a gorgeous Saturday morning (I would've squeezed in a quick nine holes before leaving, but I had a 10:00 AM kick-a-round on the turf to attend). Within fifteen minutes of passing into Williamstown, I was lacing up my boots for a small-sided soccer match, featuring many of Greylock's past, present, and future stars. And to my delight, the hour-and-a-half of soccer was only a prequel to the nearly three hours of tennis I played in the afternoon. Tennis is awesome, and I wish I knew a little bit more about what I was doing. I have a decent serve and can play a slice anywhere on the court (credit to my squash skills), but my ground strokes are about as inconsistant as the Red Sox's batting order. (Hey, we did win on opening day for the first time in a few years, so maybe it's a little early to criticize the Sox). Anyway, it won't be more than a few weeks until Sam is beating me 6-0 all the time, but I enjoyed hitting it around with the crew on Saturday. 

That evening brought a gathering at the Foehl household for a full slate of college sports on television. The NCAA basketball games were slightly uninspiring; even though it's always cool to see a high seed make it to the final four, I had little motivation to root for Wichita State as opposed to previous Cinderellas like Butler, VCU, and George Mason. Maybe Wichita would have more going for them if FSGC hadn't reached the Sweet Sixteen as a fifteen seed and captured the national spotlight. Fortunately, there was plenty of college hockey on as well. The greater New Haven area suddenly became the hockey capital of America as Yale and Quinnipiac both pulled off come-from-behind victories. We'll see both of them two weekends from now in the Frozen Four. Though both of our families are crazy about sports, the frequent Dils-Foehl gatherings are a highlight of mine no matter what is on television. And if all goes as plan, I'll be seeing them in Martha's Vineyard in a couple weeks. (Yeah Toby, get ready for plenty of wiffle ball). 

I've gone too long without mentioning an important new piece to the Dils family. My absence has opened up a spot in the house for Cindy, a Rotary Club exchange student from France. She's been at Mt. Greylock all year long, and we're the fourth family to host her. I got to meet Cindy this past weekend, and by the looks of it, Miranda is really enjoying having another girl in the house. She made it through our evening of sports viewing with the Foehls, as well as the next morning's Easter Sunrise Service. 

The sunrise service is an Easter tradition that I haven't missed in many years. Every Easter morning, whether it's sunny or snowing, a crowd from the Second Congregational Church of Williamstown gathers at Mt. Hope for a short service. We stand in a circle, listen to the congregation's youth, and sing without any piano or organ. And once in a while, as was the case this Easter, we see a sunrise. 

My visit home for Easter wouldn't have been complete without a brunch with my grandparents, Mommom and Babo. They arrived home from their six week stay in Florida this past Friday, and I know we were all thankful, because Easter wouldn't be the same without them. It feels like a whole lot longer than six weeks ago that I said goodbye to Mommom and Babo in Florida. Sharing an Easter meal with them was a treat. I've missed our Sunday gatherings as much as anything this year, so each one I get to attend is even more special.

As I drove back to Hamden, I realized there was a lot to look forward to. My first two weeks of settling in and learning the ropes at my jobs are now over. I feel comfortable everywhere I go, and I am excited that caddying at the New Haven Country Club begins soon. It's been fun living here in Hamden, and I can't wait for spring to stay for good. I'm taking it one day at a time, because if I've learned anything this year, it is that time goes by way too fast.