By Kyle Roberts
BIRMINGHAM, Alabama — “How do you get that many people to agree on anything?”
It’s the most common response I get when I explain our yearly golf excursion: over a dozen guys cement a yearly weekend on the calendar to play the links for four (sometimes five) straight days of championship-style golf, complete with entry fees, handicaps, and enough trips to Outback over the years that would make a kangaroo proud.
It’s what we call “The RTJ Shootout”, and this June we celebrated the 25th anniversary of this group (in some form and number) making the trek eastward to a Robert Trent Jones resort somewhere in Alabama.
Nearly a week in the pouring rain followed by muggy heat (Thank you, Tropical Cyclone Arthur), we trudged through 72 holes and walked somewhere in the neighborhood of 26 cumulative miles apiece from the cart path to our golf balls somewhere in the fairway or (more likely) the rough.
And we all loved every single second of it, regardless of how well we played.
What started as just a small outing nearly three decades has now flourished into groups as many as 16-large over the years.
Usually, planning starts as early as January with Scott’s yearly e-mail that boils down to “Okay, who’s coming this year?”
And from there, all of us do our best to figure out and, pardon the pun, scramble to make sure we can make the locked-in date once it’s set.
This year, 14 of us were able to go to celebrate the silver anniversary of what’s honestly become quite an anomaly: a group of dudes that have forged deep friendships over decades.
Think about that: fourteen grown men with families, jobs, and hobbies all creating time to be together for a week, hang out, enjoy each other’s company and not fight (much).
This kind of “community” doesn’t happen by accident. It requires each person to value and understand that we’re not just playing golf — we’re building bonds that will stand the test of time. In a world that rightfully mourns a “male loneliness epidemic,” where guys just don’t have enough friends in their lives, the studies clearly don’t look to Alabama in mid-June. It would turn the research on its head.
We’re not perfect, and we’re certainly not very good at golf, but we’re all men trying our best at life. And it’s really cool to catch up every summer, picking up conversations where they were left off on last year’s Sunday round.
Not everybody can come every year — I’m certainly guilty of this. And over time, sadly, some members have gone home to be with the Lord. We pray every before we pull out of the driveway that opening Wednesday as an homage to those we take with us to the first tee box.
If you know me, you know I’m blessed more than I’ll every deserve. God has given me many, many friendships in my near 44 years on this Earth. I take none of them for granted — and I certainly will never take for granted the January e-mail asking if “I’m in.” Even if I can’t go that year, just knowing that I have a place means so much.
Because the trip has never been about golf (well, maybe a little).
And that’s why we all pray one day there will be “The RTJ Shootout: Gold Edition.”
