The CSGA Links Volume 5 Issue 1 April 2017 | Page 4

FIRST SHOT Message from the CSGA Executive Director - Mike Moraghan Golf’s Unsung Heroes M y Mom turned 100 over the winter. She has continued to shrink a little each year, and somewhat weakened after defeating a nasty flu bug in February, she has conceded the need to occasionally use a cane. Mentally she is just as sharp as she was when she taught 5th grade English and Social Studies. My Mom grew up in Plymouth and has been a gardener her entire life. This time of year we talk about what is blooming – forsythia…daffodils…as well as the Yankees and the start of baseball season. She was never a golfer, preferring a short spade or an iron rake to a nine-iron or a putter, but her love of the earth instilled in me an appreciation of those who tend to it and care for it with demonstrable zeal. And my father, who was a real golfer instilled in me an understanding that golf course superintendents were to be held in the type of high regard reserved for priests and policemen. My father happened to be the Greens Chairman at the Country Club of Waterbury in the late 1950s when the club realized they needed to rebuild their original putting greens. With no internal drainage, Donald Ross’ original masterpieces had taken a beating over the years. Of course, not every area of every surface was bad, so with the help of then superintendent, Charlie Baskin, my Dad identified the healthiest turf available, and using one of Charlie’s sod cutters removed and rolled up enough of it to build our very own living, breathing putting green on Prospect Street in Litchfield. I’m not sure if Dad got permission from Mom to give up a 36’ x 18’ rectangle in our backyard (potential garden space) and I never asked, but I sure enjoyed it for the next 20 years! Along the way I learned a tiny amount of agronomy and gained a lifelong admiration for the Charlie Baskins of the 4 | CSGA Links // April, 2017 world. Ever the caretaker, Mom also took part in the upkeep, syringing the surface on hot days when Dad and I were doing the important work of playing 18 holes at Waterbury or some other course. She was as devoted to “the green” as she was to her own plants, and only occasionally reminded us that it would have wilted multiple times without her syringing. Alas, after 20+ years we could no longer maintain it with our collective part time efforts and the green was lost. Dad and I continued to play at Waterbury and Mom plowed up the old sod and created the best vegetable garden on the street. I know my admiration for golf course superintendents is rooted in those early years in the backyard, long before I actually walked onto a real golf course and witnessed the full majesty from every tee to every green. These men and women who make things grow and cultivate the most beautiful landscapes are magicians in my mind, real stewards of the earth. How could we not admire a group of folks who put in ridiculously long days, who pay close attention to the smallest details of land covering hundreds of acres, who seek no glory or trophy only the satisfaction of getting it right and making it look and play great, and who literally get their hands dirty every day so that others can glean some enjoyment from the result of their labor? Now it is one thing to maintain a nice track in Florida, where abundant sunshine, sandy soil and a 365-day growing season is the norm. Quite a different challenge up here when every spring www.csgalinks.org