I'm telling you, listening to the Eagles' "Learn To Be Still" as the sun sets over the tenth fairway is like a church service.
As I pounded one huge drive after another tonight (fishermen aren't the only sportsmen who lie), I reflected on a FB challenge I received today from Steve Rottert of Springboro, seeking recognition of athletes who have inspired us through the years. His post today featured a former Chicago Bear, Walter Payton.
And while I can quickly list former Reds or Bengals and a dozen ways I am inspired by Peyton Manning, I started thinking of guys of a more local flavor, players from my hometowns of Franklin and Springboro who I either played with or grew up watching, whose influence I will never forget.
So I thought about Jim Hough, Rod Dillon, Donny Wilburn, Mitch Leisz, Kevin Butt, Kevin Hollon, Danny Griffith, and 50 other guys whose talent I could never match, but still made me better. And as these guys came to mind, I swung to the rhythm of the music.
Lastly, as I made my best swing of the night, Steve Dalton (pictured) came to mind.
...
WHEN MY FAMILY MOVED from Springboro to Franklin when I was in the eighth grade, we moved to a house just down the street from Steve. He was already a talented golfer, and I was just a beginner, but we were two guys without a driver's license who lived only a block away from the Franklin Golf Course, so we played...All. The. Time.
Though I eventually got better, with rounds often in the high 70s, Steve was part of the upper echelon of local players who often shot in the low 70s or better -- guys like Mike McGee, Rob McGee, Tal Selby, Andy Horn, Randy Conn, and Kent Stevens.
By hanging with Steve, I was invited into a whole different group of guys I probably would have never gotten to hang with.
Steve finished second in the Ohio Golf Association junior tournament when he was 15. He qualified for the prestigious Junior World in San Diego tournament two years in a row. And I remember a blistering opening round at Weatherwax in the Middletown City Tournament when survival was everyone's only goal, and Steve shot 67.
One day, in a tournament at NCR Country Club, he killed his opening drive on the first hole in front of a large gallery. A bystander chuckled, "Damn, anything in the air that long ought to serve dinner."
I tried hard to get as good as Steve, but never could. But he set a standard I tried to reach.
Through all the years and the countless rounds of golf, he was also one of my best friends. My Franklin H.S. graduating class of 1978 gave me a whole host of friends who have remained my friends for a lifetime -- Joe Byrne, Todd Kinder, Jerry Collins, Dave Baker, Kenny Haney, Dave 'Silk' Back, Danny Griffith, Ricky Chamberlain and many others. We have done life together.
During spring break in 1979, a bunch of us went to Daytona Beach. I would tell you everything that happened that week, but those records are sealed. One afternoon Steve jumped up on the high dive and decided to serenade the entire hotel with his version of "Dust In The Wind," a popular song at the time by the group Kansas. Not only was he way off key, but Steve thoroughly butchered the words. It was awful. And yet it was also fantastic.
We all laughed about it for years.
Fittingly, in 2015, when we gathered to pay tribute to Steve at his memorial, Griff closed the service with that very song, since it held meaning for the moment in more ways than one.
...
I LAUGHED ABOUT IT AGAIN tonight, as I wrapped up my session on the driving range, hoping I will one day develop a swing as good as Steve and shoot the numbers he once did. I picked up my golf bag and headed for the car, just as another song came over the speakers.
I don't believe in coincidences. I believe there are moments God and his angels tell me, in a language I understand, that there is more than just our life here on Earth, and everything is going to be okay.
So when I tell you what song came on, I don't think it was by random chance.
"Dust In The Wind."
Thanks, Steve. You made me laugh once again.