Q-SCHOOL MEMORIES

Every year as q-school time rolls around, my bad dreams start coming in waves… you know the ones where you miss your tee time, have too many clubs in the bag, can’t take the club back because a tree branch keeps getting in your way on the tee box, or, worse yet, forget to send in the entry form.

Yes, those bad dreams. Nope, check that. Nightmares.

Dottie and Pa (1985)

It has been over 36 years since I walked into my maternal grandfather’s barn asking for a $5,000 dollar loan. A relatively short term loan, but nonetheless, a loan. I’d just graduated from college and needed enough money to enter the U.S. Women’s Open qualifier, play two months of Futures Tour golf and pay for my entry to the 1987 LPGA Q-School.

That money would hold me over until I could cash in a certificate of deposit later that summer that had been established for me by my paternal grandmother. She set up a college fund for each of her grandchildren when they were born to give them a head start on their college education—money I didn’t need after high school because of my full ride at Furman. But, I did need it to get me to the LPGA Tour.

Pa wrote that $5k check and, despite walking and charting nine holes of the wrong golf course in prep for the Women’s Open qualifier with my caddy-sister, Jackie, I managed to not only be in the field for the championship at Plainfield CC, but to be qualifying medalist.

By the time that Women’s Open ended, I had finished T-12 and won nearly $6,000. Pa was repaid as soon as that check came. I now had enough money to do it on my own, only playing events I could drive to, staying mostly in private housing and paying my sister a whopping $20 per day plus expenses. We worked hard, had some moderate success in those events before the first LPGA pre-qualifier at the Tall Grass Club in Kansas. We flew there and promptly missed the cut. It wasn’t even close.

My play was sloppy, the weather was dreadful, I was unfocused, and, truthfully, taking success a bit for granted. The next pre-qualifier would be the last hope for an LPGA card for an entire year.

I did somehow manage to get through that next pre-qualifier in Sarasota, FL despite picking up a case of the shanks on my drive south. My sister was back at school by this time and I asked my good friend and PGA Professional, Ted Ossoff, to caddy for me there. The weather was again dreadful, but the attitude was completely different; no more playing to not make mistakes… just make as many birdies as possible. Be aggressive and take it deep. Get the ball past the hole and putt back to it. If you shank it, find it and make the best score possible.

I did hit one shank that week—on the 53rd hole of the 54 hole qualifier—and still managed to win, moving on to the final qualifier in suburban Houston with my 17 year old sister caddying again and a small, red leather golf bag that my uncle had painted my name on by hand.

We had absolutely no idea what we were doing.

Dottie and Caddy-Sister

For starters I didn’t know I couldn’t rent a car on my own without a monster surcharge because I wasn’t yet 25 years old. We didn’t even know the exact number of cards the LPGA was awarding and we certainly didn’t know the difference in an exempt LPGA card and a non-exempt/conditional card. I only knew they were going to award about 20 full cards after 72 holes and I still had a case of the shanks. The dreaded lateral showed up a few times on the range, once in a practice round and, yes, there was one in the final round—you know, that tournament that determines what the next year of your golfing life looks like.

We did make some good decisions, however. One of the best was not hanging around the scoreboard or talking to the many agents and club manufacturing reps around the practice facilities. My thought was there’s no sense speculating, adding pressure or being in an arena where the air is thin; just put the best possible numbers on the board and see what becomes of it.

Opening with 77-78 didn’t give me much reason to go to the scoreboard anyway; pretty ugly, but no shanks. Just a hard golf course and play that wasn’t very clean. However, a third round pairing where fellow Furman alum, Sherri Turner, was caddying for another qualifier turned out to be the boost of confidence I needed. A round of 75 in very windy conditions leapfrogged a good number of players. Sherri was quick to compliment the round as being much better than the score and said a subpar final round would likely get me a full card.

Another important thing also happened that night: I gave myself a couple of years to chase the LPGA dream before I would fall back on Plan B—becoming a pilot.

The stress level came down significantly on Day 4 and despite a cold shank into the lake on the 11th hole where I managed to save a crucial bogey, a round of 69 blew past the field and into a tie for 8th. Jackie was crystal clear with targets coming in, even with a 2 iron into the par 3 16th and 5 wood for my second shot to the final hole, with nothing but water right and short. You’d think she’d been caddying for major champions her whole life!

We did finally visit the scoreboard that afternoon and saw my status zooming upward, just as Sherri said. I’d made it by 5 shots.

I have no idea what my career would have looked like without that bit of encouragement from Sherri and Jackie’s tough love/clarity on those final holes, but I’m pretty sure the uncertainty of a non-exempt card would have brutal for someone as detail and plan-oriented as I am. I might have ended up in aviation school sooner. Who knows.

I do know this, however: the first person I called after my exempt card was secured was Pa. And we cried our eyes out. All I said when he picked up the phone was, “We did it!”

I know this, too: the stock market collapsed the first day of trading after I got my card. Things were going get rough for women’s sports and the LPGA and I was awfully thankful for a college degree I could fall back on.

Almost 40 years later my q-school journey is as clear and sharp as ever. Those wicked dreams still roll around at this time of the year. Big moments have a way of leaving a lifetime mark. And if I could say anything to the qualifiers today, it would be to avoid as much friction and outside stress as possible, be mega-resilient, give yourself every latitude to look long term and be aware of those little bits of encouragement that go a long way.

After all, you never know when a 3rd round pairing and a 17 year old might align to give you just the right flight pattern.