Beautifully Simple

Nick Carlson tapped in for par on the final hole of Round 4 in DP World Q-school, punctuating it with a fist pump. The tears started before his playing partners had finished. He hugged his fiance and stood, leaning on his putter, wiping his eyes. He had made the four-round cut and guaranteed himself a place to play next season. Living with his parents and working as a delivery driver and substitute teacher had all been worth it. It was a special moment. These are the kind of moments I love. It also made me wonder how many of these moments were left in pro golf. 

As the pro golf world shrinks in the U.S., it was refreshing to be in Spain at the final stage of DP World Tour Q-school. The field of 156 players had amateur stars, longtime grinders, and multi-time winners looking to recapture a little magic on the back nine of their careers. 

It is hard to not be romantic about Q-school. Over the last few years, pro golf has become messy and complicated. Constant change and players fighting over millions have ruled the golf news landscape for what seems forever. At Q-school, nothing is complicated; shoot the scores and earn a place to play. Seven-time winner Gonzalo Fdez-Castano teed it up next to Ilirian Zalli, who had never played more than a small mini-tour event in Canada. At Q-school they played as equals, past resumes, or a lack of one, be damned. 

At the end of a grueling six rounds, there would be tears of triumph, like the ones from Dan Erickson, a Texas kid who played in South Africa the last two years. He called his parents, who decided not to make the trip this year after coming to Spain last year, and they all cried. Years of driving Dan to events all over the United States have been filled with so many close calls, and finally, a moment to celebrate. A final round 63 included an eagle at the last hole and sealed his status for next season. On the phone, Dan’s Dad said, "I couldn't breathe for the last 30 minutes." Dan replied, "I couldn't breathe for four hours." It was one of those moments that makes Q-school so special. 

Danny List also shot a final round 63 to earn his DP World Tour card. List grew up in Ghana on sand greens. As a teenager, he made his way to a golf academy in England and turned himself into a top-rated amateur. But after just a year at the University of Washington, he turned pro and has battled injuries ever since. Before the final round, he told me this was the first time in his pro career he'd gone more than three months without any injury. After he finished he told me, "I'm just so happy to have a place to play." 

There was Davis Bryant, an American who dominated the mini-tour scene over the summer. He shot a final round 62 and finished third, just two strokes short of winner Eduardo Molinari. Many players cried, including Jean Bekirian, who became the first player from Armenia to ever hold status on the DP Tour. He finished 11th. Bekirian was wrapped in the Armenian flag as his parents stood with him crying. 

There were moments of despair and disappointment too. Scott Stevens, known as "Cardboard" to the Bryan Brothers fans, three-putted the last to miss the fourth-round cut. I stood beside the green as he frantically waved at the first putt to slow down. The short comeback putt for par slid by the hole, and Stevens stared blankly off into the distance, knowing his chances were gone.

44-year-old Oliver Wilson was in the same group as Stevens. The two-time DP World Tour winner was back at Q-school again, but he couldn't recapture the magic of years past and missed the four-round cut. He hugged his wife, who had followed him every hole with their dog. Nothing was said, but at 44, you had to wonder if Father Time had caught up. 

Q-school is pro golf in its purest form. There are no ropes and there are hardly any fans outside of spouses, parents, siblings and friends. The leaderboards throughout the course are manual and run by volunteers who sometimes make mistakes. Push carts and players carrying their own bags are commonplace. On the surface, it looks like the kind of golf we all grew up playing – except careers are on the line. 

Shoot the scores and have a place to play; make a mistake and wonder what next season will bring – or if there will be a next season at all. I watched one player who failed to win status walk by a patio where a family celebrated their son getting a card. He stared blankly at them, lost in the shots he had missed, and wishing it was him and his family up on the patio. Pro golf is filled with moments like this for most players, so the celebrations are so emotional to watch. 

Shoot the score and earn the spot. As I watched the most democratic sport play out like it was meant to across six rounds in Spain, I was struck by how complicated the pro golf landscape had become over the last couple years. 

I long for the days when it can be simple again.