Garry and golf: It’s been great for both
Golf Canada’s Distinguished Service Award for Garry McKay
He was named as recipient of one of Golf Canada’s top awards last week, so it was time to call him and offer some congratulations. He’d be too humble to ever mention the honour himself. Ring. Ring ...
“Hello,” Garry McKay answered. “Distinguished Service Award winner here.”
In the world of self-deprecation, there’s Garry and there’s everyone else. There’s no praise you can give he won’t joke about and no compliment you can offer he won’t deflect so the spotlight isn’t on him.
In this case, the first thing he said after his entirely unserious response was to say how happy he was for Ian and Ruth Giles who were also given the award — presented to just a few people each year for having a huge impact on the game over many years — since they really deserve it. Which is true. The incredible volunteers from Hamilton (more about them later this summer) are always doing something for golf.
But, so is McKay.
If you’re from around here and have had any success in golf over the past five decades (and counting since he has continued penning a golf column for the paper since retiring in 2011), he’s probably written about you. Refrigerator doors around Hamilton are covered in newspaper clippings bearing his byline in which someone got some ink for the first — or only — time in their life.
“He’s the most-generous guy I ever worked with,” says longtime Spectator columnist, Steve Milton.
You’ve probably read many of these peoples’ stories. But, what about his?
The 73-year-old got his start in golf playing as a teenager at Chedoke. It was at the height of the Arnold Palmer craze and he used to ride his bike from his home near Ivor Wynne Stadium to the course at 5 a.m. carrying his clubs on his back.
Of course, he says he was “terrible” at the game. More self-deprecation? Perhaps. Until he tells of taking lessons early on from an assistant pro.
“After he had me as a student, he moved to Vancouver and became a ski instructor,” McKay laughs.
If he wasn’t going to make it as a pro he could at least write about it, he figured.
He was already working as a high school reporter for The Spectator while he was still a student.
By sometime in the 1970s, he was hired on at the paper full time. During a Canadian Open, as it turns out, which is appropriate considering he’s missed so few of them since then. And since many of his best stories start with, “One year at a Canadian Open …”
One of his favourites? The time he was covering an Open at Glen Abbey years ago and The Spectator hired a helicopter to get some aerial photos of the event. Unfortunately, the pilot thought the photos would be better if he was closer to the ground. So he descended until he was hovering not far above the green.
As fans’ hats were flying everywhere and balls were blowing off the putting surface thanks to the spinning rotors, the equally befuddled photographer mistook the furious waving of fans and players as a friendly greeting and waved back.
Who hired these idiots, people started asking.
“It couldn’t have been us,” a knowing McKay quickly said to a couple nearby reporters. “We couldn’t afford that.”
There are so many more. He never runs out of tales. But there have been innumerable cool moments, too. Being there for the Tiger Woods famous six-iron on 18 for example, or the time Mike Weir came that close to winning, or the time David Hearn almost won.
He’s covered Mackenzie Hughes, Hearn and Alena Sharp before they were big deals, plus thousands more who’ve swung a club.
“He’s just always there,” says Golf Canada senior director of communications Dan Pino.
It’s not just the writing. McKay was also a founding director of the Hamilton-Halton Junior Golf Tour, on numerous hall of fame committees, tons of working groups and a key part of the Hamilton elementary schools championship.
The first year that school tournament was held, he decided to lend it a little sense of occasion by loudly announcing each player as they prepared to tee off, as if they were starting their first round at The Masters.
One small problem. His enthusiastic introductions had the effect of making the kids so nervous that nearly every single one promptly drove the ball deep into the woods, slowing proceedings to a crawl as a team of spotters hunted for the lost projectiles.
He saw what was happening but he didn’t stop. Not because he was revelling in their struggles. Rather, how many of these kids will ever get the experience of being treated like a pro again? One bad shot will be forgotten. One great experience won’t be.
He’s quick to poke fun at himself. He’d never do that to another golfer.
He never runs out of tales. But there have been innumerable cool moments, too