Opinion & Analysis
Dad, golf, and the circle of life
This is a story about golf, my Dad and the bridge it built between us. And it’s about the circle of life as relates to my Dad limping down the home stretch of his time on Earth. But first some context.
Dad couldn’t have come from an upbringing less aligned with golf in the late 1940s and 1950s, when private clubs outnumbered public ones and there were many more well-to-do golfers than those from blue-collar lives. Heck, Dad didn’t eat at a restaurant until after he turned 18. That was a luxury his family couldn’t afford. Hailing from hard-scrabble Western Pennsylvania – the son of a hard-drinking steel mill worker – life was hard for Dad’s family of five and toughness was mandatory.
Earning a sports scholarship was one of the few ways that Dad could avoid working in the steel mills; fortunately, he was a gifted athlete who won a full ride to then all-male University of Virginia. He led the ACC in rushing his senior year – while also starting at safety on defense. And he did so with a chronically painful back and shoulder that were shot with painkillers virtually every practice and game for four years. Dad was tough.
With his playing days behind him, Dad began coaching football. His teams won more than 200 games, two state high school championships (I proudly played on both), and roughly one dozen of his players made the NFL. An old-school disciplinarian – as both a father and coach – he left deep impressions on his student-athletes (and his son). Former players sought him out over the decades to say things like “Not a day goes by without me thinking of the life lessons you taught through football” and “You taught me how to be a man.”
I shared similar sentiments with him. But our relationship was more complicated and strained; he was extremely tough on me and I was rebellious. Our relationship away from football wasn’t easy, and we struggled to connect, communicate or express affection. Thank goodness for golf; we bonded through the game.
We began playing together in the early 1980s when he joined an old, low-end private club near our Maryland home. Then in his mid-40s, he took to golf instantly. When it wasn’t football season, he was playing golf. His first lesson was from Fred Funk, then golf coach at the University of Maryland, my alma mater. And he pursued getting better with the same meticulous approach he brought to game-planning for a football opponent – tracking putts for each round, analyzing his tendencies, getting fired up when things weren’t going well, and working on his game whenever possible.
We enjoyed countless rounds together at the club. While Dad was never one to speak much, it didn’t matter. I relished walking the fairways with him hour upon hour, knowing he was enjoying the game and my company as well. In later years, we continued our mutual passion at Bryce Resort in Virginia’s Shenandoah Mountains where he retired. Our ability to play regularly ended about 10 years ago. He lives in Aiken, S.C., now, about 20 minutes from Augusta, Ga., in a golf community. I still live in Northern Virginia. But golf remains at the forefront when we’re together or talk on the phone when we’re not.
Many of my best golf memories involve Dad. On Father’s Day 2008, we watched Tiger thrillingly catch Rocco Mediate with a 72nd-hole birdie on Father’s Day. For years we played in an annual tournament with more than 60 others each fall. It was a multi-day orgy of golf, camaraderie and good times that kept us close.
If only that honey spot in life would have lasted forever. . . But as happens, Dad, who is approaching 80, is diminishing significantly. Both in his golf game and his physical and mental faculties. He asked me not too long ago if he’d ever been to my house. He has been. Many times. And he gets confused and anxious more frequently and profoundly as the seasons pass.
I know it’s the circle of life and that Father Time is undefeated. Still, it’s heart-wrenching to see him falter, both intrinsically and because this was as dynamic, decisive and robust a man as any I’ve ever met. The fiery-yet-poised coach who excelled at leading now often struggles to remember things. And he plays much less golf now, often bitter that his scores are steadily rising.
But he’s still playing and competing against himself and his friends (a pool of people who are slowly passing – today’s playing partners, sometimes tomorrow’s memories). I spoke to him recently and mentioned that Mom told me he shot 87 in a round. That’s a great score for him these days and he can’t always complete 18, another victory. Not one to jinx success or gloat, he tried to give the Heisman to my praise for his good play. But I could tell he was pleased.
That warmed my heart, and I’m grateful that the game still provides him with many of its gifts – camaraderie, competition, exercise and a life measuring stick of sorts.
Here’s praying that he’s playing and with a peaceful mind until the end. And God willing, when it’s his time to go, that he shoots a low score on his final day, then passes that night, drifting off contentedly while thinking happily about his success on the course that day.
As the editor-in-chief of this website and an observer of the GolfWRX forums and other online golf equipment discourse for over a decade, I’m pretty well attuned to the grunts and grumbles of a significant portion of the golf equipment purchasing spectrum. And before you accuse me of lording above all in some digital ivory tower, I’d like to offer that I worked at golf courses (public and private) for years prior to picking up my pen, so I’m well-versed in the non-degenerate golf equipment consumers out there. I touched (green)grass (retail)!
Complaints about the ills of and related to the OEMs usually follow some version of: Product cycles are too short for real innovation, tour equipment isn’t the same as retail (which is largely not true, by the way), too much is invested in marketing and not enough in R&D, top staffer X hasn’t even put the new driver in play, so it’s obviously not superior to the previous generation, prices are too high, and on and on.
Without digging into the merits of any of these claims, which I believe are mostly red herrings, I’d like to bring into view of our rangefinder what I believe to be the two primary difficulties golf equipment companies face.
One: As Terry Koehler, back when he was the CEO of Ben Hogan, told me at the time of the Ft Worth irons launch, if you can’t regularly hit the golf ball in a coin-sized area in the middle of the face, there’s not a ton that iron technology can do for you. Now, this is less true now with respect to irons than when he said it, and is less and less true by degrees as the clubs get larger (utilities, fairways, hybrids, drivers), but there remains a great deal of golf equipment truth in that statement. Think about it — which is to say, in TL;DR fashion, get lessons from a qualified instructor who will teach you about the fundamentals of repeatable impact and how the golf swing works, not just offer band-aid fixes. If you can’t repeatably deliver the golf club to the golf ball in something resembling the manner it was designed for, how can you expect to be getting the most out of the club — put another way, the maximum value from your investment?
Similarly, game improvement equipment can only improve your game if you game it. In other words, get fit for the clubs you ought to be playing rather than filling the bag with the ones you wish you could hit or used to be able to hit. Of course, don’t do this if you don’t care about performance and just want to hit a forged blade while playing off an 18 handicap. That’s absolutely fine. There were plenty of members in clubs back in the day playing Hogan Apex or Mizuno MP-32 irons who had no business doing so from a ballstriking standpoint, but they enjoyed their look, feel, and complementary qualities to their Gatsby hats and cashmere sweaters. Do what brings you a measure of joy in this maddening game.
Now, the second issue. This is not a plea for non-conforming equipment; rather, it is a statement of fact. USGA/R&A limits on every facet of golf equipment are detrimental to golf equipment manufacturers. Sure, you know this, but do you think about it as it applies to almost every element of equipment? A 500cc driver would be inherently more forgiving than a 460cc, as one with a COR measurement in excess of 0.83. 50-inch shafts. Box grooves. And on and on.
Would fewer regulations be objectively bad for the game? Would this erode its soul? Fortunately, that’s beside the point of this exercise, which is merely to point out the facts. The fact, in this case, is that equipment restrictions and regulations are the slaughterbench of an abundance of innovation in the golf equipment space. Is this for the best? Well, now I’ve asked the question twice and might as well give a partial response, I guess my answer to that would be, “It depends on what type of golf you’re playing and who you’re playing it with.”
For my part, I don’t mind embarrassing myself with vintage blades and persimmons chasing after the quasi-spiritual elevation of a well-struck shot, but that’s just me. Plenty of folks don’t give a damn if their grooves are conforming. Plenty of folks think the folks in Liberty Corner ought to add a prison to the museum for such offences. And those are just a few of the considerations for the amateur game — which doesn’t get inside the gallery ropes of the pro game…
Different strokes in the game of golf, in my humble opinion.
Anyway, I believe equipment company engineers are genuinely trying to build better equipment year over year. The marketing departments are trying to find ways to make this equipment appeal to the broadest segment of the golf market possible. All of this against (1) the backdrop of — at least for now — firm product cycles. And golfers who, with their ~15 average handicap (men), for the most part, are not striping the golf ball like Tiger in his prime and seem to have less and less time year over year to practice and improve. (2) Regulations that massively restrict what they’re able to do…
That’s the landscape as I see it and the real headwinds for golf equipment companies. No doubt, there’s more I haven’t considered, but I think the previous is a better — and better faith — point of departure when formulating any serious commentary on the golf equipment world than some of the more cynical and conspiratorial takes I hear.
Agree? Disagree? Think I’m worthy of an Adam Hadwin-esque security guard tackle? Let me know in the comments.
@golfoncbs The infamous Adam Hadwin tackle ? #golf #fyp #canada #pgatour #adamhadwin ? Ghibli-style nostalgic waltz – MaSssuguMusic
Episode #16 brings us Cliff McKinney. Cliff is the founder of Old Charlie Golf Club, a new club, and concept, to be built in the Florida panhandle. The model is quite interesting and aims to make great, private golf more affordable. We hope you enjoy the show!
Last week, I came across a reel from BBC Sport on Instagram featuring Scottie Scheffler speaking to the media ahead of The Open at Royal Portrush. In it, he shared that he often wonders what the point is of wanting to win tournaments so badly — especially when he knows, deep down, that it doesn’t lead to a truly fulfilling life.
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“Is it great to be able to win tournaments and to accomplish the things I have in the game of golf? Yeah, it brings tears to my eyes just to think about it because I’ve literally worked my entire life to be good at this sport,” Scheffler said. “To have that kind of sense of accomplishment, I think, is a pretty cool feeling. To get to live out your dreams is very special, but at the end of the day, I’m not out here to inspire the next generation of golfers. I’m not out here to inspire someone to be the best player in the world, because what’s the point?”
Ironically — or perhaps perfectly — he went on to win the claret jug.
That question — what’s the point of winning? — cuts straight to the heart of the human journey.
As someone who’s spent over two decades in the trenches of professional golf, and in deep study of the mental, emotional, and spiritual dimensions of the game, I see Scottie’s inner conflict as a sign of soul evolution in motion.
I came to golf late. I wasn’t a junior standout or college All-American. At 27, I left a steady corporate job to see if I could be on the PGA Tour starting as a 14-handicap, average-length hitter. Over the years, my journey has been defined less by trophies and more by the relentless effort to navigate the deeply inequitable and gated system of professional golf — an effort that ultimately turned inward and helped me evolve as both a golfer and a person.
One perspective that helped me make sense of this inner dissonance around competition and our culture’s tendency to overvalue winning is the idea of soul evolution.
The University of Virginia’s Division of Perceptual Studies has done extensive research on reincarnation, and Netflix’s Surviving Death (Episode 6) explores the topic, too. Whether you take it literally or metaphorically, the idea that we’re on a long arc of growth — from beginner to sage elder — offers a profound perspective.
If you accept the premise literally, then terms like “young soul” and “old soul” start to hold meaning. However, even if we set the word “soul” aside, it’s easy to see that different levels of life experience produce different worldviews.
Newer souls — or people in earlier stages of their development — may be curious and kind but still lack discernment or depth. There is a naivety, and they don’t yet question as deeply, tending to see things in black and white, partly because certainty feels safer than confronting the unknown.
As we gain more experience, we begin to experiment. We test limits. We chase extreme external goals — sometimes at the expense of health, relationships, or inner peace — still operating from hunger, ambition, and the fragility of the ego.
It’s a necessary stage, but often a turbulent and unfulfilling one.
David Duval fell off the map after reaching World No. 1. Bubba Watson had his own “Is this it?” moment with his caddie, Ted Scott, after winning the Masters.
In Aaron Rodgers: Enigma, reflecting on his 2011 Super Bowl win, Rodgers said:
“Now I’ve accomplished the only thing that I really, really wanted to do in my life. Now what? I was like, ‘Did I aim at the wrong thing? Did I spend too much time thinking about stuff that ultimately doesn’t give you true happiness?’”
Jim Carrey once said, “I think everybody should get rich and famous and do everything they ever dreamed of so they can see that it’s not the answer.”
Eventually, though, something shifts.
We begin to see in shades of gray. Winning, dominating, accumulating—these pursuits lose their shine. The rewards feel more fleeting. Living in a constant state of fight-or-flight makes us feel alive, yes, but not happy and joyful.
Compassion begins to replace ambition. Love, presence, and gratitude become more fulfilling than status, profits, or trophies. We crave balance over burnout. Collaboration over competition. Meaning over metrics.
Interestingly, if we zoom out, we can apply this same model to nations and cultures. Countries, like people, have a collective “soul stage” made up of the individuals within them.
Take the United States, for example. I’d place it as a mid-level soul: highly competitive and deeply driven, but still learning emotional maturity. Still uncomfortable with nuance. Still believing that more is always better. Despite its global wins, the U.S. currently ranks just 23rd in happiness (as of 2025). You might liken it to a gifted teenager—bold, eager, and ambitious, but angsty and still figuring out how to live well and in balance. As much as a parent wants to protect their child, sometimes the child has to make their own mistakes to truly grow.
So when Scottie Scheffler wonders what the point of winning is, I don’t see someone losing strength.
I see someone evolving.
He’s beginning to look beyond the leaderboard. Beyond metrics of success that carry a lower vibration. And yet, in a poetic twist, Scheffler did go on to win The Open. But that only reinforces the point: even at the pinnacle, the question remains. And if more of us in the golf and sports world — and in U.S. culture at large — started asking similar questions, we might discover that the more meaningful trophy isn’t about accumulating or beating others at all costs.
It’s about awakening and evolving to something more than winning could ever promise.
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Susan Rittenberg
May 13, 2019 at 10:54 am
Your dad coached my son along with Jimmy Kemp in the 80’s and he still quotes him today. He coached his own Peewee teams in college and often said he called to his kids with instructions and then turned around because he felt like ‘Coach Shepherd’ had just said that. That’s a lasting influence and a role model to carry through life. Both your parents were a joy to know and work with and it was and honor to be part of that special fraternity of football families.
DON bAILEY
Jan 17, 2019 at 1:39 pm
I met your Dad here at Bryce,we both grew up in same area,myself in a coal mining patch him in steel mills area. We had alot to talk about and our kids was one of them. We are the same age. Dan this is a from the heart piece,great to hear you guys got it all worked out. One thing your Dad sometimes brought up the day we beat you and your buddy on the golf course he just loved that day. I think maybe you picked up some of you Dad and thats good.I think your writing is very well done.
Good Luck
Don Bailey
Jeff Mion
Jul 3, 2018 at 12:54 am
Dan, So glad to hear the story of your “circle” and bonding with your dad through golf, and that those walks/rides were not spoiled by the golf (ha!)- Golf is such a wonderful and befuddling/irritating game at the same time- I try to play every week!
I recognized very early on following high school that- through those few football years for me- I was fortunate that your dad/Coach was there to reinforce the values and discipline instilled by my own dad & mom- this realization only grew clearer as I got older myself.
My Best To You,
Jeff Mion
Dan
Jul 4, 2018 at 3:45 pm
Thanks, Jeff. Know the important roles that golf and your Dad play in your life. Blessings both. Cheers!
Dan Shepeherd
Jan 21, 2019 at 5:53 pm
Thank you, Don. Appreciate the nice feedback.
Paul Foringer
Jul 1, 2018 at 8:05 pm
Dan
Never knew you as a player when I coached with your Dad. You were a bit ahead of me. He was a pretty stubborn guy. He knew way more than we did and I think he liked that control. His way or the highway. I learned a lot from him and there were times when we saw his anger, but I’m not the coach I am today without his influence. He was like a 2nd Dad to me in the coaching ranks, and as with my own father, I spent a lot of time trying to please him. Wanted to prove myself to him. It took a few years to earn his trust. But when I did it was the best feeling. I believe you and your Dad struggled early in your relationship so you could be great together now. Always a balance in your life. Glad to hear Golf had a hand in bringing you together again. Well written and well done.
Dan
Jul 4, 2018 at 3:41 pm
Appreciate it, Paul. I got to see you coach from a different perspective when I was Sports Editor at the MoCo Journal. You were one of the best, and had a lot in common demeanor-wise with Bob Milloy. Cheers!
Debra
Jun 11, 2018 at 8:15 am
So beautiful Dan! You captured your Dad – and the Sheps- perfectly. Bravo! Peace and love.
Dan Shepherd
Jun 12, 2018 at 8:40 am
Thank you, Debra.
Jimmy Kemp
Jun 9, 2018 at 4:50 pm
Coach Shepherd did have an incredible impact on all of us players.
Thanks Dan for writing about his life and the struggle we all hopefully have to endure if our time isn’t cut short.
Your piece is a great example of the intersection of life, love and sports.
Dan Shepherd
Jun 12, 2018 at 8:41 am
Thank you, Jimmy.
Frank
Jun 7, 2018 at 8:24 pm
Great story, Dan. Cherish the moments, as they go by way too fast. When others are asked about their dream foursome my mind immediately goes to my personal dream foursome; my father, my mother and my brother. If I could bring back my father and mother I wonder what the time spent on the golf course would entail? We would never stop talking to hit shots!!
Dan
Jun 9, 2018 at 4:04 pm
Thanks, Frank. Your foursome is ideal!