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Mark Parsinen: A friend’s tribute to a lesser known genius

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Golf has always elevated course architects to exalted status. From Mackenzie, Ross and Tillinghast to Fazio, Jones (Robert Jr. and Rees), Hanse and Coore-Crenshaw, golf’s version of rock stars make their name in the dirt and are lauded by writers and players worldwide.

Similarly, patrons of the game like Johnny Morris have ascended in the industry as they have translated their financial fortunes and love of golf to facilitate the creation of destinations like Big Cedar Lodge; they are the Medicis of golf’s new Golden Age. But I can only think of only a few who combine the skill and sensibility of a great designer with the vision and passion of a great patron. One who is well-known is Mike Keiser. Although lesser-known, Mark Parsinen was another.

I was introduced to Mark Parsinen by another good friend, Robert Trent Jones Jr. Bobby had worked with Mark at Granite Bay; he knew that Mark was in Washington, DC for a family event and thought that we should meet. I met Mark in the lobby of his hotel along with his wife Dede, his daughter Jenny and a bunch of their friends, including the actor Taye Diggs. Someone wanted to get a picture of the family and I moved over to the side to make way. As they were forming up, Mark called to me, “Hey Michael, come join the picture!”

I had known him for all of five minutes and he insisted that I be a part of a shared memory. That was our friendship. That was Mark Parsinen.

Mark grew up in Minnesota, the son of Finnish immigrants. He liked to joke that while there were many Nordic immigrants in Minnesota, the Finns were the lowest in the pecking order. He maintained a sense of humility from his parents’ immigrant roots, but he also inherited a work ethic that would enable him to accomplish things that others could or would not. Work was not work for Mark; he liked the idea of every moment being spent purposefully. If something took fifteen minutes to do properly, so be it. If it was fifteen hours, fine. His gift was the ability to envision an outcome and progress towards it with a combination of stamina and joy.

He went to the London School of Economics and went on to become a partner in the Boston Group, one of the nation’s leading consulting firms. In his role with the Boston Group he had a hand in guiding a wide range of companies and products to success. A little-known fact I that he was instrumental in the creation of light beer; he laughed when I told him that was nothing to be happy about.

An accomplished player, Mark was self-trained in course design. He moved to the West Coast and wanted to join a club but couldn’t get a spot in any club that he liked so he built his own, Granite Bay Golf Club near Sacramento, California. It was his first golf course project, a collaboration with Jones, Jr.  Said Bobby, “[Mark] didn’t know much about golf course design when we started working together, but I knew what he liked and wanted. The expertise came later.” Granite Bay won praise immediately and Mark was off and running.

Kingsbarns Golf Links

He is best known for his courses in Scotland, Kingsbarns (2000 with Kyle Phillips) and Castle Stuart (2009 with Gil Hanse). Both courses were heralded as among the world’s best courses virtually from the moment of their opening. After playing Castle Stuart, Phil Mickelson was so impressed that he said that it should be studied by anyone who is planning to build a golf course before they turned a shovel of earth.

Castle Stuart Golf Links

Mark’s genius was the ability to work with the best golf architects in the world and challenge them to greatness. He taught himself to be able to read topographical maps and to understand soil samples (skills he encouraged me to acquire). He came to master the art, science, logistics and the operations of a golf course; of course, he had quality people around him who specialized in their expertise, but Mark had a knack for taking something known, tilting it and saying “Could it be better this way?”. To Mark, the world was a big kaleidoscope, and he was fascinated by how you could make something beautiful just by looking at it differently.

His legacy, along with his family, will certainly be or the golf courses that he built. They are treasures that will only grow in stature very time. But what I know from the hours we spent talking about golf and golf courses is that he loved golfers even more than he loved golf courses. His primary influence for golf course design was the Old Course at St. Andrews, a course that he and played over 200 times in his life. He wrote eloquently about the Old Course:

“I have become a devotee of the Old Course where I’ve come to see the golf experience there as definitely not a sequence of tests, but rather a sequence of opportunities to decide whether or not to take risk to gain an advantage with a subsequent shot or to defer the risk by playing a safe shot thereby taking on a greater risk and challenge with a subsequent shot – AND at the same time, the Old Course seems to allow players the freedom to find their own path to the green to suit their own game and their own propensities.  I’ve come to cherish this type of experience in contrast with having to face a sequence of pre-determined tests where one’s game may or may not be suited to the challenge that must be confronted with little or no option or likelihood of success. Being the prisoner of a narrowly defined path can often feel quite oppressive compared with the freedom of a more open playing field with many avenues to the green available for evaluation and selection.”

The Old Course at St. Andrews

Mark wanted golf to be a challenge, not a double-dog dare. His courses represent his reverence for the principles of the Old Course and a genuine affection for the golfer and the quality of their experience. We had much fun one day with his theory that there were Catholic courses and Protestant courses. Catholic courses were like St. Andrews, where you could make huge mistakes but there was almost always a chance for redemption. Carnoustie was a Protestant course, where the path to success was straight and narrow, and mistakes were severely punished. It was the kind of intellectual exercise that Mark loved because there was no right or wrong, just a liberating exchange of ideas and information.

The last time I saw Mark was when I visited him at his home in Inverness on the 14th hole at Castle Stuart. We spent the final day of the trip surveying the work that was being done on the new 9-hole course at Castle Stuart, which had not yet been completed. We sifted through handfuls of sand to determine their density; like any good golf course designer, Mark loved dirt. He explained the dozens of flags that were placed in the ground to guide the bulldozers and shapers.

At one point, he was explaining the shape of the surrounds of a green when he turned to me and asked, “What do you think?” I was reluctant at first to give voice to a thought lest it be rejected or even ridiculed. After some prompting, I gave him my thoughts on the severity of slope on one side of a green. He looked at the green, then looked at me and smiled broadly. “You are right…that makes sense.” He flagged down one of the lads on a shaper and shared my thoughts. “Michael, we’ll have to get you on a tractor when we do the next eighteen.” I couldn’t have been prouder if I had won the Open Championship.

Construction on the 9-hole course at Castle Stuart

Mark was surrounded in his life by people who were devoted to him. Our final night in Scotland we made dinner at home and drank local gin (me) and red wine (him) along with Elspeth, the Food and beverage Manager at Castle Stuart who has become as essential to the course as the tee markers and flagsticks. We talked about everything from our favorite golf courses to the people that had shaped our lives. We laughed until the wee hours and next day, Mark and I made our way back to the States. We talked many times after that; just last week he had invited me to come spend time with him and the family at their vacation home in Nevada. “Dede and everyone would love to see you,” he said, “and we can go play some golf and talk about what we can do together.” We did have plans; for books, for films, for new courses. So many plans…

His study in Inverness

Mark was 70 years old and a very accomplished man, but he was in many ways just getting started. He built Granite Bay, Kingsbarns, and Castle Stuart. He was an intellectual, a visionary and a raging success at everything he did. He loved golf, but more importantly he loved golfers and did everything he could to make sure that his properties were fun on the course and off. He was a devoted husband to his beloved wife Dede and exemplary father to his children. He leaves behind a host of people in the golf industry who admired and respected him. He was my mentor and my friend. We saw golf and life in very much the same way. I am heartbroken. I will miss him so very much.

 

 

Williams has a reputation as a savvy broadcaster, and as an incisive interviewer and writer. An avid golfer himself, Williams has covered the game of golf and the golf lifestyle including courses, restaurants, travel and sports marketing for publications all over the world. He is currently working with a wide range of outlets in traditional and electronic media, and has produced and hosted “Sticks and Stones” on the Fox Radio network, a critically acclaimed show that combined coverage of the golf world with interviews of the Washington power elite. His work on Newschannel8’s “Capital Golf Weekly” and “SportsTalk” have established him as one of the area’s most trusted sources for golf reporting. Williams has also made numerous radio appearances on “The John Thompson Show,” and a host of other local productions. He is a sought-after speaker and panel moderator, he has recently launched a new partnership with The O Team to create original golf-themed programming and events. Williams is a member of the United States Golf Association and the Golf Writers Association of America.

5 Comments

5 Comments

  1. Mike DiCarlo

    Jun 10, 2019 at 9:23 am

    Michael,
    Great story about a terrific man. I can’t say that we are friends though it felt that way. For a six month period, we talked 3-4 times a week and those conversations usually lasted 90+ minutes. I looked forward to those conversations because they were always about golf but at the same time about life. He will be greatly missed. My best to his wife and children.

  2. BJ

    Jun 9, 2019 at 12:28 pm

    Granite Bay is great. If your a club corp member its a must play

  3. Sam

    Jun 7, 2019 at 4:41 pm

    Two great and fun filled Scottish courses. Nothing better after a round at Kingsbarns than sitting outside with a beer betting on whether a golfer playing the last would clear the burn. Sadly now pretty much out of our price range but it is now firmly on the tourists circuit, so fair enough. He always gave the impression of being a genuine person. Thanks

  4. Jaime

    Jun 7, 2019 at 3:13 pm

    What’s Kyle Phillips going to do now?

  5. Dave

    Jun 6, 2019 at 2:56 pm

    Great read and tribute! I’ll be more aware when I play Granite Bay in 11 days…

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Opinion & Analysis

The 2 primary challenges golf equipment companies face

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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

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Podcasts

Fore Love of Golf: Introducing a new club concept

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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!

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Opinion & Analysis

On Scottie Scheffler wondering ‘What’s the point of winning?’

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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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