Celebrating Twenty-One Years of Golf, Brotherhood, and Regrettable Choices

Drop shared group photos here.

 

Very few things in life still feel pure after twenty one years, especially around this group of grab ass champions. Yet here we are, standing on hallowed ground for the 21st Annual Bandon Winter Invitational; a tradition that has survived apocalyptic weather, reckless and regrettable decisions, and a truly alarming amount of caddie provided mushrooms. The Bandon Winter Invitational isn't just something we put on a calendar; it's a marker of time spent with friends, a reminder of shared history, and proof that some friendships can endure just about anything (unless you're a member of the OC Chippers or Slice Slice Baby.)

 

What began humbly as a few old guys chasing a shared love of the game has grown into an epic week that draws morally flexible men from all over the country. Washington, Idaho, Texas, Colorado, Montana, Kentucky, New Jersey, California, and beyond all converge on the rugged Oregon coast for an epic week of financially irresponsible activities, THC induced pursuits, and more Fireball shots than the resort can reasonably store in its beverage depot. Somewhere along the way, lifelong friendships have formed. Stories have layered on top of stories, and while wins and losses have blurred together, the cherished memories haven't. This tournament has become a reunion, a retreat, and in many ways, a reset. An event where Murph will always buy another stack of poker chips without ever knowing if he's up or down, 1-Eye will somehow track sixty nine bets at once with the accuracy of a forensic accountant, and Jereme will have the keys to the rental van ready for another run to The Mill, the Bachelor's Inn, or Taco Bell.

 

It's impossible not to appreciate the characters who've shaped this week. Jason remains the drunkest person in the group while maintaining his usual position near the top of the leaderboard, leaving us to debate whether alcohol is his secret sauce or simply makes him forget which shots count. Jared insists every year that he's playing like absolute trash, only for the scorecard to prove otherwise. Rogers continues to be the usual target of ridicule, which feels fair given the night he fell into a pond and had to be saved by the world's worst rescue squad. Toey's Kentucky accent remains so thick that most conversations require context, patience, and a translation app.

 

For all the laughter, it's important to pause and recognize how rare this is. Health, opportunity, sacrifice, and the simple ability to keep showing up together is not something we should ever take for granted. Some of us have faced serious battles away from these fairways. JT was forced to change his team name after semen was no longer possible, then promptly became the first guy in the group to record a tournament hole-in-one. Murph gave all of us a major scare and now downs zero-alcohol Budweiser for breakfast, a far cry from being the only person to ever be cut off on a golf course. And while you're standing on the bluff on the 16th, taking in the beauty of the Pacific, let us never forget to pour out a Mango White Claw for Marketos.

 

As we gather again, may we slow down enough to appreciate the laughter, the shenanigans, the walks between shots, and the moments that can't be scheduled. This week is special not because of where we are, but because of who we're with. Whether it's watching Danitz and Andrew play twice as much golf as everyone else without getting any better, or waiting patiently for Quinn to take longer than humanly necessary to play poker, hit a shot, or order dinner, may we always appreciate everything this trip has given us. Long after the final putt drops, what will endure is not the leaderboard, but the privilege of having been here together once more.

 

-The Tournament Committee