I vaguely remember the conversation, but my dear friend remembers it vividly. Apparently the way it was delivered was so matter of fact, that it stuck in his mind. From that moment on he and I both knew that it was going to happen.
Fast forward six years and I’m sat in a cafeteria at Brunel University of London seriously unimpressed. I had saved up for six months for the annual USA Scholarship Trials. With my parents’ consent, I dropped my Bachelor’s Degree in Physical Education and had gone all in on the dream of playing in the States. The trials were held over two days where twenty or so coaches flew over to London to recruit young hopeful players, who aspired to play within the NCAA’s Collegiate System.
Day one had just been completed and not one coach had watched me play. What was worse, the three players I was presently sat with hadn’t seen hide nor hair of a coach either. Whilst casting my eye across to the table of Coaches all talking and smiling, I realised that they might not be present to watch us, but had found a nefarious way to come and visit London-Europe for free. It was at that stage I had a rush of blood, excused myself away from my disgruntled competitors and walked over to the Coaches table and asked if I might ‘have a word’.
I explained that every player present in the room had paid in excess of £250 (a sizeable sum in 1989) to enter the trials. They all dreamed of playing Stateside and were wondering if they had wasted their money, as very few coaches had actually made it onto the course. It was then I had my first conversation with Coach Reed Sanderlin; a man who would play a significant part in my life from that moment, and would be simply called Coach very soon after. He calmly explained that he had a system of splitting the field and he had the intention of watching me tomorrow. But he would be happy to watch me on the range in the morning. I honestly can’t remember any other of the coaches now, and sometimes wonder if I hadn’t confronted them if I would have ever gone to the states.
Twenty four hours later, I had secured a scholarship and would be heading out to the University of Tennessee in Chattanooga in two months’ time. Four years later I would gain a degree, be nominated for All American and have made the transition from boy to man, and amateur to professional. It was a special experience, made all the more wonderful by the man who recruited me; my American Father as he is affectionately now known.
He was a guest of honour at my wedding and also visited the UK for my 40th Birthday. But I think the invitation I received three years ago really exemplifies the generosity of the man. When, thanks to Coach, unbeknown to me I had been nominated and accepted into the University of Tennessee’s Athletic Hall of Fame. The email was asking if I could attend the induction ceremony in February. Words failed me. Up until that date there had only been five golfers inducted out of the 188 athletes which cross all of the university’s sports programmes. I was about to become the first international player to become a Hall of Famer.
Fast forward another three years and I’m on the plane heading out to the States for this year’s Hall of Fame Induction Ceremony; going Stateside to my second home with my darling wife to see my American family.
Reed Sanderlin was the Head Coach of Chattanooga’s golf team for twenty eight years - unpaid. That’s right, he recruited, managed the teams, selflessly giving his time, energy and experience for nothing.
Coach is, quite frankly, the most generous man I have ever met. Very deservingly he was inducted into the same Hall of Fame around ten years ago for his work at the University. This Friday I get the chance to stand up alongside him as a fellow Hall of Famer. Not as an equal, just alongside...and that will more than do.