Dela

I have many incredible memories surrounding the disc golf course Delaveaga in Santa Cruz CA. 

• My bachelor party full of many flashbacks including home cooked food, shaving heads, getting ko’d by a 6″10′ gentle giant.
• The nerves and excitement of playing in my first National Tour event, the 2017 Amature Masters Cup.
• Getting to know Armando better over a cold beer while practice putting the night before said Masters Cup. 

As I relive these memories, I can’t help but breathe deep and smile. However, while these will always be on the tip of my mind when thinking of Santa Cruz, my favorite and most impactful memory of Dela happened in the second round during the 2019 Masters Cup. 

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It was a damp morning. Waking up in clouds in the Santa Cruz Mountains, it seemed that the weather would match that of the previous 4 tournaments. However, my inner fire wouldn’t be extinguished by the rain, I would get to play Dela again.

I stepped out of the truck at the tournament parking lot and saw a recognizable figure walking towards me. Matching my shit eating grin plus a few extra wrinkles, my caddie, my old man, Papa John, was walking forward wearing a raincoat, jogging shoes, snow gloves, and an Oregon O hat that could be mistaken for a dog toy. 

“Gonna be a wet one” he said still smiling as he stuffed no less than 20 dry rags into my disc golf bag. Johnny Walker wasn’t wrong, the round was soaking from the first tee till the last putt dropped.

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“Swoop it to the right around that tree”, “Layup and get your par”, “What’s that guys name again?”, “You’re in the middle of all that poison oak, riiiight there…”, “Smooth and easy”. Calm, cool, collected, with his umbrella, gloves, and my disc golf bag, Stevie Ray John was the king of the caddies. 

After 4 hours of sopping wet disc golf I stepped up to the second last hole. I shanked the drive, pooched the upshot, and doinked the putt. In short, I bogeyed the hole to bring me to even par for the round. Tired, wet, and frustrated I walked to the final tee. 

“Ya win some, ya lose some. Shake it off and finish with a birdie”, Genghis Jhan offered with a smile and a nod. After another misfired drive, my shot landed 60 feet to the right of the pin. Unfocused, and ready for the round to be done I walked up the fairway to my disc.

During the ongoing pitter-patter of rain drops on the umbrella, I heard “Make the putt, and let’s go have a beer. We earned it”. Matching the old mans grin once again, I stepped up to my putt and knew it was going in.

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On the scorecard it was a very mediocre round, but the rain made every shot a battle. Yet on every single water drenched hole, I couldn’t help but smile. There stood the man that taught me all of the building blocks that accumulated into having a great time no matter the situation or where I am.