The Long Knocker
by Jason Cruise
It was his moniker, a name he appointed to himself in humor and humility because he normally was fifty yards behind any golfer in his foursome when it came to tee shots. Mr. Welch may not have held the ability to compress the golf ball as strongly as others in his crew, but there was one area, one trait in his character, where no man was his equal. From his lips came nothing but encouraging words. Very intentional, precise, encouraging words.
As a young golfer, I spent an incredible amount of time on the range. So did Mr. Welch. We became pals. His instant smile was contagious. No matter how I was hitting the ball, no matter what my most recent tournament score revealed about the status of my game, Mr. Welch would tell me, with intense specificity, of how he thought I was playing the game so very well. There were times I knew that he knew I wasn't playing well at all. It didn't matter. All I knew was that Bobby Welch was for me. No matter what. His words of strong encouragement were, at times, injections of life placed perfectly into my heart.
Pleasant words are a honeycomb, sweet to the soul and healing to the bones. - Proverbs 16:24