Finding My Flight

Back in the early 1990's, when I was in elementary school in Queens, NY, we went on a class trip to a "Dude Ranch". It had been raining the day before, and the morning off, and when we arrived, we noticed everything was wet, and most of the activities we were going to do were canceled due to the rain. We saw field after field and lord be held. We all saw a Mini golf course with all sorts of obstacles. We all went crazy!

We arrived. We went inside only to have our biggest fears come true. Many of the activities were canceled; however, we were told that since the rain had stopped, we could go out and play at the mini golf course. We all ran to the course. My entire class huddled around a hole that was two islands with a white tube connecting both. You had to hit it in the tube exactly so it could go into the next island and into the hole. One by one, my classmates tried to hit it in, but they all failed.

Then it was my turn. I approached the hole like a professional golfer approaches his shot. I aimed, putted the ball, and it went into the tube and straight into the hole. One shot! I was the only one who had made the shot. Everyone was cheering. You'd have thought I had won the Masters.

Since then, I was totally hooked on the game.

I thought of the game, that shot, and that feeling from elementary school throughout my teens and into my 30s. Yes, you can say I was obsessed with the game. I looked for ways to play the game, but sadly, living in Corona, Queens, you're not going to find many people who play golf. I'd take trips or pass by golf courses on the way to somewhere, and I would just stare at the course. Yes, I had an obsession.

I'd watch sports highlights in awe. I'd walk straight to the golf section whenever I went to Models (now closed), Sports Authority (also closed), or other sporting goods stores. While my wife was shopping for something, I'd ditch her and hold a driver or a putter.

I have a problem.

On Father's Day in 2010/2011, I bought myself a complete set of Wilson golf clubs at Target. I was excited to say the least. I bought every golf product I could find. From golf magazines to training aids to golf apparel, I bought it all. The first chance I had, I went to the nearest driving range. It was terrible. I was hitting it everywhere but straight, but I loved it. I had a great time.

I started taking lessons at my local driving range, and I think I got a little better. I was hitting it further, and once in a while I'd hit it straight. I'd go to the driving range early on Saturday and Sunday mornings on my own; it was so peaceful.

As I improved my game a bit, I began to upgrade my golf equipment. I shopped strictly on eBay because it was the only place that had affordable used clubs. I built my bag. TaylorMade Burners were my first set. My second set would be the Callaway RAZR series, a few years later, but that's another story. I'd take my flashy golf clubs and just shoot like crap while everyone else with used, beat-up clubs was hitting it long and hard. I learned a lesson that day, gear doesn't make you a better golfer. So I practiced religiously.

I kept working on both the short and long game at the range for weeks and months, even during the winter, and now I wanted to get out into an 18-hole round for real. I played a couple of times with co-workers at the time, but all they wanted to do was drink and goof off. Not me, that type of style didn't appeal to me, it's ok if others like that, not judging, but for me, I wanted to play the game like it's played in the PGA, quiet, by the rules, taking your time, etc., so I decided to schedule a tee time by myself.

I believe my first official 18-hole game was at either Forest Park Golf Course or Kissena Golf Course, both in Queens, NY. I was paired with others who had more experience than I did, and boy, that was humbling. My nerves were getting the best of me. I was hitting everything but the fairway. I know for a fact that the other three golfers were getting annoyed. It's just the reaction, the sound of their voice, or the whispers that they think you can't hear, but your nerves somehow give you superhuman hearing powers that let you hear everything around you.

Additionally, I can't just walk away because, 1) you're going to look like a baby running away, 2) I paid a lot of money for the green fees to play, 3) I didn't want this to be my first memory of playing golf, 4) I was at the hole furthest away from the clubhouse and was sharing a cart, it would just be embarrassing walking away a long distance. I just kept my mouth shut and played on. The round was finally over, and we shook hands and parted ways. I got home, cleaned my clubs, planned my next work session at the range, and improved my game.

Over the next few summers, I would practice at the range on Saturdays, and the next day, Sunday, I would schedule a tee time and play a round of golf with randoms. It was still an awkward experience, but I loved the game too much, so I'd suck it up and play. Playing with random people is awkward because you don't know what kind of people you're playing with. In my own experience, I played with certain randoms who were low handicappers and had no patience with me. If I had trouble getting out of rough or sand, they'd yell "just take a hole" instead of offering tips. It was frustrating, and at times I wished the round would just end already so I could just escape to my friendly driving range.

My driving range sessions, along with lessons from golf pros, had me playing better, or at least I thought so. I would continue to play at municipal golf courses in New York; I even played at Douglaston Golf Club, where I had the most fun. The random golfers I was with were actually nice and friendly. As I remember, the golf course was, and is, beautiful. To this day, I pass by it and just look at it in awe. Definitely playing there again. The weather was great, and I had a decent game. I can't recall, but I may have broken 90. Yes, I know that's not a good score, but for me it was a big accomplishment.

My golf fever was at an all-time high. I wanted to take days off from work to work on my game some more on weekdays, and I did. I came across the Golf Channel Amateur Tour and began to read all about it. They had different flights. From the best of the best, low handicappers, to newcomers, Bogey golfers, they had a spot for everyone. All we had to do was sign up, pay the fee, and we'd receive an official Golf Channel AmTour polo shirt, yardage booklet, pencil, a divot tool (which I didn't even know how to use), stickers, and other swag.

I was excited. I had weeks to practice and work on my game until the day came. I'd wake up at the crack of dawn, drive to the driving range, work on my short game, long game, then head to the putt-putt section to work on my putting. I put in the work, or so I thought.

Game day. I drove two hours to Riverhead, Long Island, to the Country Club that was hosting the Amateur tournament. A COUNTRY CLUB! Never in my life had I ever played or even set foot in a country club. I was over the moon. The setup was amazing. They had Golf Channel signs and banners all over the place, a food bar, a driving range, they had a presentation, and best of all, when we were about to tee off, they announced our names just like in the PGA. Let's show these other bogey golfers how well I play.

My adrenaline is pumping, the weather is perfect, there's an actual crowd watching, I'm playing in an actual country club, this is the Golf Channel Pro Amateur tour, I feel great except, wait, what if I hit a slice? Or worse, I miss the ball altogether. No, I could hit the ball. I do it all the time at the range, but it could slice.

Don't slice.

I just need to make sure my grip is correct.

Don't slice.

Make sure my stance is correct.

Don't slice.

Keep my head still. Pay attention to the back swing. Make sure my forehand is facing the ball. Keep my arms straight. Triangle! Swing with my hips.

"It's all in the hips, it's all in the hips."

By the time I had addressed the ball, my mind was in several places except for my first shot. I swung, hit the ball, and SLICE! It didn't even reach mid fairway. It was embarrassing. All the preparation. The anticipation. The excitement. Everything I had worked and trained for was out the window. My momentum was gone. My nerves had taken over. It was a disaster.

It didn't get any better. Somewhere towards the end of the front nine, we were at a short par 4. I've hit the ball this length at the range all the time; this would've been the perfect hole to redeem myself. No. I hit my usual slice mid fairway into the rough. I don't think I even touched the fairway throughout the game. I approached the ball in the rough. Remember when I said, "I could hit the ball. I do it all the time at the range." I swung. I missed the ball entirely. The silence. You could have cut the tension with a knife at that moment. The other players' impatience was palpable. I didn't even have to look at them; I could feel it. I can't run. I'll be a laughing stock. This was the longest day of my life, and it was just the front nine. I still had the back nine. I was so embarrassed. So disappointed. I couldn't hide from it. I had to suck it up. What else could I have done?

I'm driving home at about 10:00 pm on the phone with my wife, telling her that I didn't want to play golf anymore. I've had it. I can't seem to get any better. I told her I was going to sell my golf clubs. I was upset. I was hurt. I was disappointed. I was tired. My adrenaline was gone. I was hungry.

How bad was it?

Let's just say that the only reason I didn't finish last was that someone had quit. I got home, ate a Big Mac, and vented a bit.

For the next few days, I didn't touch or even look at anything that was golf. The game was on a Saturday. I returned to work at a shipping company on Monday, and by the end of that same week, I had sold and shipped the golf clubs. I didn't want to waste any time. The disappointment was real, and it hurt. I didn't want anything that reminded me of golf. I had sold my golf clubs on eBay, canceled my Golf Magazine, Golf, and Golf Digest subscriptions, and went on with my life. Or so I thought.

Some time had passed, not much, when I began to get that itch to play golf again. I'd pass by the driving range and the local golf courses on the way to visit friends, and I just couldn't keep my eyes off it. I was hooked again. I began my normal routine again. Resubscribing to Golf Magazine, Golf, and Golf Digest. Buying a brand new, used golf club set, but this time I went with Callaway Golf because they had just released the RAZR series, and they were black and looked so cool. Supposedly, the design was inspired by a Lamborghini, not sure if that was true, but I believed it. I started going to my local driving range, but this time I had a rotation. For my short game work, I'd go to Alley Pond Golf out in Douglaston, Queens, NY, and for my long game, I'd go to Spring Rock Golf out in New Hyde Park, NY.

The second time I quit golf, I had a good reason. My daughter wanted to play soccer. She needed gear, and we didn't have the money to buy it and put her on a soccer team/school team. As a father, one has to be ready to make the necessary sacrifices for one's family, and I didn't hesitate to suggest selling my clubs so I could pay for what my daughter needed to play soccer.

I sold my clubs to this guy who looked like a lawyer; he was driving a brand-new Mercedes. Upon picking up the clubs, he handed me the money, looked them over, and asked if I was really sure I wanted to do this. He must've seen the pain in my eyes, but I told him that I was sure. I took the money, gave him the clubs, and off he went.

I was crying inside.

I can't describe the feeling I had inside when, not even a week had passed, my daughter flat-out told us she wasn't interested in playing soccer anymore. I didn't want to force her to play a sport that she didn't want to play, but damn it, I sold my golf clubs for her! What the heck!

I was older and slowly getting back into golf, but didn't want to go through all that awkwardness of being paired with randoms. I didn't like that no one I knew liked playing golf. I'd still go to the range by myself and keep to myself. I still loved to play the game, but that was the only part that wasn't much fun. It was difficult to find someone to play golf or even go to the driving range. I'd take my wife and kids, but they didn't enjoy or appreciate the game as I did. For God's sake, my wife called my golf clubs "Golf Sticks" and that drove me up the wall.

It was around 2010/2011 when the movie The Social Network came out, you know, the Facebook movie, that I got the idea to create something that would allow me to find other golfers to play golf with.

Simple.

Seed planted.

I began to dive into web development, learning all I needed to know to design and develop my solution to my problem. I spent the next several years paying for online courses, buying programming books, and watching endless hours of YouTube videos on building something, but I still didn't know exactly what I wanted. I knew it had something to do with helping me find other golfers.

I spent years going back and forth between online courses. I went back to school to earn my degree, but ended up majoring in a completely different field, Digital and Social Media Marketing. What does that have to do with building what I needed? By that time, I had forgotten the game of golf. I had stopped playing; my focus was now on getting a job at a tech company as a web designer or developer.

Golf was gone.

After a few years, earning my degree and several Google certifications, I started doing freelance web design work and eventually launched my own design agency. It wasn't a passion project. It was survival. I needed a second income, and web design was a skill I had built up over the years that could actually pay. It helped keep things afloat at home. But something was still missing. Though I was good at it and it paid the bills, it wasn't it. It's not what I wanted to do.

Years have gone by. My kids are older. Two of them are in college, one of them is about to go to Law School, and the third will be graduating soon and going to college as well. They're basically on their own. They're not dependent on Dad as they used to be. I've taught them to prepare for being on their own because one day I won't be around, and they need to learn to manage on their own as they get older.

2024. My mother has been diagnosed with liver cancer. My priority is my sick mother. Appointments upon appointments take most of my time. I have a very good 9-5 job that allows me to work remotely for several weeks before I have to report to the office for one week, then it's back to remote work. It's very convenient. I would say I was blessed.

2026. On February 6th, we received the news. The day the world turned upside down. We got the news that there was nothing more that could be done for my mother, and it was now a matter of quality of life. Her liver cancer got worse. She didn't have much time.

April 21. My mother passed away early in the morning. I had gone home the day before after spending most of my time at her house, even sleeping over, to take care of her while my wife took care of the kids at home. I received a call from my aunt to hurry over. It was 5:50 am. I arrived at my aunt's a few minutes later. I didn't live far. My aunt was crying. I approached my mother, told her everything would be fine, not to worry about the kids or me, that I loved her, and told her to rest. She died right then and there with a tear in her eye. It was 6:36 am.

I tell people that my mother saw me take my first breath when she gave birth to me, and I saw her take her last breath when she passed. Full circle, I guess. When she passed, she literally had a smile on her face. As a Christian and a strong man of faith, I tell people that when she died, she saw heaven open up and Jesus Christ, and that it was so beautiful that her lifeless body had to smile. We buried her in the Dominican Republic, where she wanted. She was home.

After my mother passed, everything seemed clearer. I was still working my 9-5, and I continued running the design agency on the side as a second income. I had started the agency out of necessity. Struggling financially, I needed the extra money, and web design was a skill I had built over the years. It paid the bills, but it never felt like my calling.

Golf was entering my mind again, and I still had the idea of building the golf app. All those years trying to learn to code it myself, I was getting nowhere because nothing was sticking. I couldn't understand coding, as much as I liked it. Sometimes things aren't meant to be. However, that didn't mean the app wasn't meant to be part of my future.

Remember, I am a man of faith. Perhaps all my experiences, the trials and errors, the heartbreaks, the disappointments, the embarrassments, the frustrations, the ups and downs, were meant to bring me to this very point, this very moment.

All the moments in my life, with their ups and downs, were meant to bring me to this very point, this very moment. Technology has changed tremendously. We now have AI, Claude, ChatGPT, Gemini, and others, where all you need is a vision, a plan, and the strong will to serve others, and you can build anything.

That's when it clicked.

I dropped everything that wasn't essential. The design agency, the side work, all of it. My focus narrowed down to three things: my family, my 9-5, and building the app. The 9-5 stayed because it funds everything. It's what keeps the lights on while CaddieChat Golf gets built. No investors, no loans. Just a guy with a day job, a vision, and the will to see it through.

The mobile app that I had envisioned for all those years is CaddieChat Golf. The mobile app that answers the question many of us had while being paired with random golfers. "Why can't I find someone to play a round of golf with who's at my level?"

CaddieChat Golf was developed by someone who's been in that same situation for many years. I know what it's like to be paired with someone who's impatient and even rude. It feels like it's you against three others. They came together because they've been playing together for a long time, but you're new to the game. Imagine you've never played an 18-hole round of golf; you don't know the rules or the etiquette. What happens if you land in the trees? Will the people you're paired with have the patience while you work your way out? Will they help you? Will they give you tips? Some do. But sadly, I've had more awkward moments than pleasant ones.

My goal. CaddieChat Golf's purpose is to help new golfers grow within the game. Enjoy the game of golf. Partner up golfers at their level. No more of those awkward pairings. Now you can find someone nearby, request them as a buddy, and chat away. Schedule driving range sessions to work on your game and then schedule a Bogey Golfer round where you and your new buddies can play together, learn together, and grow together within the game of golf.