I have had an epiphany – I want to die like Bat Masterson. I want die at my laptop, working on a story, doing what I love with everything I’ve got.
“Jay, that’s sounds great, let’s just hope it’s 40 years from now,” said my friend and mentor.
Well I hope you’re right about that. I hope I have many years of great stories for all of you, because more than anything, I love this job, and I want to be one of the best ever. So while I finish my story on Pasatiempo, I have a story written by my friend Dick Daley, who graciously hosted me at his Wisconsin home for the PGA this year. It’s his story about me.
Several of my friends read his story about my covering the event and asked me to re-post, so here it is: A Day in the Life, what it’s like to watch me work, to make the sausage.
Enjoy and have many laughs. As long as you keep reading and laughing, I’ll keep writing – no many how many rabid pack dogs try to silence me.
By Dick Daley
“Let me say, I have always enjoyed Jay’s company, and it was too long since I saw him last at a Dixie Cup some years ago now. I have a new found respect for what he does, and how passionate he is to do it.
I have several funny stories of watching Jay work. Probably too off topic to detail, given the recent admonshments to stay on architecture. But, ask me next time you see me what is the hardest or oddest technique to get a drive to go about 190-200 into a FW at Lawsonia 18th.
But, I must say this. I haven’t seen anyone sink their teeth into a passionate pursuit to the extent of a sleep deprived, intensely engaged, and driven to succeed at a profession as I saw in Jay this week. I kid you not… Wed, after he arrived back at the house night about10:30Pm, worked until about 3 writing about his golf coverage, got up at 6Am, and during the hour and 1/2 ride to Lawsonia, was on the phone the whole time with sources for his stories. He then insisted on walking Lawsonia in serious heat/humidity, which I begged him not to do. He walked the first 9 and only then near heat exhaustion relented, and carted it the last 9 (i’m not supposed to tell, but can’t lie-cherry tree and all that Roll Eyes Wink )
He continued his cell calls to caddies and others the hour+ Lawsonia to WS, then got busy in the press tent. He hunted down his stories, walked all over the place and we met him back at tent after competition where he introduced us around to various personalities. We brought him home, and watched him get <4hours sleep again to do it all over. He kept that pace up all week. I found him one evening in his room about 1;30Am in a fetal ball on his bed, out like a light, with dead hand extended onto his laptop. When I got up around 8Am, I found he was up, had run 3 miles, and was off to the course already. This went on for 7 days and nights. BTW, it is ~140miles RT from my house to the course, so add the driving to the marathon. If I'm lyin, I'm flyin..." Author's Note: It's the toughest job you'll ever love. So the next time some jerk tells you it's all comps and privileges and stuff thrown at you, you tell them how full of it they are. See you with a Pasatiempo article shortly.
