WHAt oN eArtH iS tHAt?

By Monty Becton, General Manager

Jimmy Walker is the answer and he’s off to another good start this year.

Last fall I received a call from Christian Iooss, Director of Photography with Golf Digest looking for a location to do an interview and photo shoot with Jimmy. They were on a tight timeline and as you can see in the attached article; this wasn’t your typical photo shoot.

I gladly agreed for The Club to host the crew for the day and coordinate the interview and photos. The space suit Jimmy is wearing was shipped in from Los Angeles along with an escort who was an expert at working with this valuable and specialized prop. He explained that this suit had been used in several big screen films and is a replica of an A7L spacesuit worn by Neil Armstrong on his moonwalk.

Based on Jimmy’s performance so far, the 62-pound suit didn’t affect his mojo. Neil Armstrong may have walked on the moon, but Jimmy Walker will be walking the fairways at Augusta again this year during The 2015 Masters. During the tournament Jimmy will be competing for $9 million in prize money compared to 1969, when Neil Armstrong was paid $20,000 – NASA’s standard annual salary for civilian astronauts.

Jimmy has earned a spot on the world stage today, but stays grounded spending time at The Club and with his “golf buddies.” We’re all fortunate to have him walking the hallways and fairways of The Club and it makes following the PGA tour more exciting when you have a neighbor like Jimmy to cheer for. As Jimmy says, his immediate focus is the PGA tour, but “golf buddies are forever”!

Thanks to the team at Golf Digest for giving us the opportunity to reproduce the article as it appeared in their February issue. Enjoy!

GOLF DIGEST - FEBRUARY 2015 ISSUE

JIMMY WALKER FEATURE

• MY SHOT / JIMMY WALKER / 35 ▶Walker goes deep on his photo hobby, aliens and giving nine shots to a plus-1. with Guy yocom

PLANET JIMMY

•

Photographed by Dan Winters on Nov. 20, 2014, at the Cordillera Ranch Golf Club in Boerne, Texas. Walker is wearing a 62-pound A7L spacesuit, a replica of the suit astronauts wore on Apollo missions. Neil Armstrong wore one like this on his moonwalk. february 2015 | golfdigest.com 95

T

the horsehead nebula. Orion’s Sword. The Christmas Tree Cluster. The Sagittarius Triplets. These are the interstellar things I see and photograph through astrophotography, my big passion outside of golf. Basically it consists of photographing distant galaxies and nebulae through a telescope. It’s more complicated than I can describe in a few minutes, but I’ve gotten pretty good at it and am getting better. My photograph of the Iris Nebula was chosen as the NASA Astronomy Picture of the Day last Aug. 2. If you want to sample some of my work, go to jwalk.smugmug.com. Not to brag, but you might have a hard time believing a pro golfer shot that stuff.

○ ○ ○ you can’t look at the night sky through a telescope and not start to wonder about our place in the universe. The planet Earth amounts to a single atom within a single grain of sand amid all of the beaches on the globe. The vastness of it is something you cannot get your head around. Some of the things I photograph are millions of lightyears away, which means we’re looking at something in the very distant past. We’re talking objects that are estimated to be 13 billion years old. You gaze at these things and ponder them, and if you’re not in a good place mentally, it can be a disconcerting, sobering experience. You can start to feel very lonely, very fast. The origins of the universe are simply unknowable, and I say that with great respect for those with a spiritual bent. ○ ○ ○ you ask whether intelligent life exists elsewhere and whether aliens have visited Earth. Well, for intelligent life to exist, it would have to be in what’s known as the Goldilocks Zone, which describes planets that are the right size, the right distance to be warmed from a neighboring star, and so on. The nearest Goldilocks Zone is so far away, I can’t imagine that aliens—if they exist—could visit Earth. ○ ○ ○ tiger woods in 2000. Now there was a guy in golf’s Goldilocks Zone. Golf never was played as well before that and hasn’t been since. He was barely human, right? ○ ○ ○ whenever i get on the verge of losing my temper, I think back to what my dad told me when I was a kid: “Don’t act like a punk.” He actually put it in harsher terms than that, and it’s pulled me back every time I’ve flirted with a meltdown. I’ve broken a few clubs, sure. A busted 3-wood at Spyglass Hill comes to mind. But the odd broken club is therapeutic—necessary, even—to keep your sanity. I broke a club in a tournament one time and, feeling guilty about it, was commiserating with another player after the round. He said, “Jimmy, never start to apologize unless you broke two.” ○ ○ ○ the tournament outside of pro golf I look forward to most is the Cordillera Cup. It’s basically the Developer versus the Land Owner here at Cordillera Ranch, just north of San Antonio. Mr. Hill is the developer, Mr. Northington the land owner. These two titans of the club choose sides, and we go against each other in some intense Ryder Cup-style competition played over two days. It’s a Hatfields-versus-McCoys-type deal that’s easygoing at first but grows more intense as it draws near. Insults, most of them good-natured, fly everywhere. A video, filled with pointed and funny scenes, is shown at the opening dinner. I’ve always been on the Developer team, and in eight playings, we’ve never won. Mr. Hill wants revenge. The next Cordillera Cup might not be pretty. ○ ○ ○ if you’ve ever whined about giving shots, consider that in my singles match in the Cordillera Cup, I had to play at plus-10. Ridiculous. I had to give nine shots to a stud who’s an honest plus-1. On a tough, windy day, my opponent played pretty well. But playing one of my best rounds of the year, I birdied the last two holes to win, 1 up. ○ ○ ○ the discontent behind the scenes at the last Ryder Cup was impossible not to notice. But I didn’t feel it was my place to comment one way or the other, it being my first Ryder Cup. I sort of kept it at arm’s length and focused on the good stuff. There was plenty of it. The team all got along real well, spirit was high, and the dissension was small. I kept my nose out of it. ○ ○ ○ best ryder cup teammate: Zach Johnson. He was always there, not just with rah-rah encouragement but excellent advice and the right words at the right time. Jordan Spieth was a close second. His energy and enthusiasm were a blast to watch. I was sitting next to Jordan at the opening ceremonies, and the way he couldn’t sit still reminded me of a kid. Heck, he is a kid. And then there’s Rickie Fowler. Watching the way European crowds responded to him, you almost couldn’t tell what side he played for. Rickie’s appeal is truly global. A personality like that transcends borders. Everyone loves Rickie, and he loves them back. ○ ○ ○ the guy i wasn’t sure about was Patrick Reed, because he’s so quiet and remote. But after I sat next to him on a couple of bus rides, I discovered he’s simply a totally confident person. He wasn’t overwhelmed by the Ryder Cup. It was reassuring, knowing how in control he really was. He was a sneakygood teammate. Patrick and his wife, Justine, hung out in the team room a long time, and everyone got to know them a lot better. ○ ○ ○ what bummed me out was that the sanctity of the team room was blown up to the point there was no sanctity at all. When we presented the [replica] trophy to Tom Watson on Saturday night, some nasty things were leaked about things Tom supposedly said. From everything I’ve learned, it was not a player who broke the code and divulged everything that happened. There were outsiders in the team room, people from outside our camp. I don’t know who it was who ratted us out, but I refuse to believe it was anyone even remotely connected to the American side. ○ ○ ○ there are guys you’ve never heard of who drive the ball better than anybody I’ve seen on the PGA Tour. Coming up, I saw short games every PGA Tour player would die to have. One reason you never heard of these players is because their games don’t travel. There were grasses they couldn’t play from, types of green complexes they couldn’t deal with, greens they couldn’t read. I’d put my money on the guy who can shoot 65 on Poa annua in California, then, two weeks later, shoots 65 off bentgrass in New Jersey. ○ ○ ○ swinging a golf club is sort of a throwing action, and even as a kid I could throw things far and fast. In Little League back in Oklahoma, I struck out 14 batters in a six-inning game, and we won the state championship. Today, at 35, I can throw a small football close to 80 yards—and straighter than I can hit a golf ball. ○ ○ ○ my first tournament as a professional was the 2001 U.S. Open at Southern Hills. On my way to the first tee on Thursday, I hear a voice from the crowd yell, “Jimmy Walk!” Hearing my nickname from when I was a boy stops me. I look over, and it’s my coach from Little League. Coach Bennett. And what does Coach Bennett say as I’m ready for the biggest moment in my golf life? “I still think you should’ve been a pitcher.” ○ ○ ○ nationwide tour, late summer, 2007. I’d just had a lousy finish in Rochester and was driving to the next tournament. After six years as a pro my career hadn’t gone anywhere. Funds were running low, I’d never had a job outside of playing golf, and I was feeling deadended. I phoned my wife, Erin, and broached the idea of the two of us getting real jobs and going with a different plan for our lives. She said, “The guy I married has never quit at anything. This is what we decided to do. You’ve got to keep going.” When both people are crying on a long-distance call, that’s rock bottom. The next week in West Virginia was the hottest weather I’d ever played golf in. Just putting one foot in front of the other, I somehow won the tournament. It didn’t turn everything around. After I got to the PGA Tour, I had trouble keeping my card for a couple of years. But when you reach bottom like I did that week in Rochester and bounce back, it shows that anything is possible. ○ ○ ○ everyone needs someone in their life who lifts them up, encourages them, tells them how great they are. When I was 13 and just starting in golf, I played with David Ogrin, a tour player. The way he hit the ball and the fact he played professionally made him a giant to me. Some time went by, and then one day I got a handwritten letter from David. In it he told me how good he thought I could be. How, if I kept trying, I could make most pros’ achievements look small by comparison. I can’t tell you how many times I read that letter over the years and how much it’s done for me. It’s still on my wall today. ○ ○ ○ the best thing for your game is a dedicated group of golf buddies. A regular game will get you to the course in lousy weather. It makes playing a priority. They keep you competitive, give you an incentive to improve. At Cordillera, there’s a regular group of eight of us. We mix up the games, everything from Wolf to mini-games within the group—oneon-four, two-on-three, one-on-two, all kinds of stuff. And when we’re done, we hang out. Playing the PGA Tour is for now and the immediate future. Golf buddies are forever.

96 golfdigest.com | february 2015

▶ i can throW a small football close to 80 yards—and straiGhter than i can hit a Golf ball.

february 2015 | golfdigest.com 97

CORDILLERA RANCH TRANSPLANTS

By Krsitine Duran :: Photography By Ben Weber

Greg Abrahamian knew he wanted to go down either of two career paths: medicine or military. Little did he know the two would merge once his journey brought him to Texas; the place where he met his wife, began his career as a transplant surgeon, raised his children and found Cordillera Ranch.

A first-generation American citizen, Greg was born and raised in Fresno, California. After attending Fresno State, the ambitious graduate took the medical route instead of attending military school once he was accepted to UT Health Science Center at San Antonio. With the assistance of an Air Force Health Professions scholarship, Greg made the move to Texas. “So basically Air Force paid for all of my schooling and I paid with my life; 26 years with the Air Force,” Greg proudly states.

Greg always knew he would eventually end up in the medical field, although it is not something that runs in the family. It’s the memories of a regular past time with his father that Greg finds might have led him to his career. “I used to spend a lot of time watching M*A*S*H with my dad,” Greg laughs. “It sounds goofy, but that was probably my biggest influence in going into medicine. I had a grandfather who was somewhat ill and I used to go with him to the doctor’s office. It’s probably those two events – watching M.A.S.H. and my grandfather.”

During his fourth year of surgical residency at Wilford Hall, Greg met Melody. “It was 1995, during the basketball playoffs and we were at Sombrero Rosa,” Greg recollects. Melody was coaxed by her friend to drop by and the two hit it off. But Melody mentions that Greg stood her up on their first real date. “I stood her up because I had to go in to do an appendectomy,” Greg laughs. “Then I persuaded her to go out again and here we are.”

Melody was raised by in an Air Force family, so a future with Greg was something that seemed familiar. “I grew up everywhere,” Melody says. “Every three years, we moved.” So when an organ transplant fellowship took Greg to Boston, Melody was right by his side and enrolled in graduate school in Boston as well. The couple spent two years there before Greg was whisked away.

It was an unexpected series of events that led the couple to their new residence in DC. “I was the last of the Air Force transplant surgeons,” Greg says. “There were no more after me and they shut down Wilford Hall’s transplant center while we were in Boston, so we couldn’t come back here. The Air Force gave me to the Army basically.” But after a slow year, Greg pulled some strings and got the opportunity to come back to Wilford Hall in 2001; the year his first daughter, Natalia was born.

Although there was no longer a transplant unit at the hospital, he was able to work full-time at University Hospital through a memorandum of understanding on loan from the Air Force, the hospital he still works at today. Greg and Melody were back in the city they wanted to be in, with a newborn baby girl; their new family was coming together nicely. Just as Natalia turned three months old, Greg was deployed to Saudi Arabia during Operation Southern Watch right before 9/11, but returned a week before the disaster struck. In 2004, the Abrahamians’ second daughter, Vienne was born. Melody decided to commit all of her time to her children and became a stay-at-home mom. As Natalie was on the cusp of kindergarten, Melody began researching area schools and Boerne schools were undoubtedly at the top of her list. After speaking about the possible move to Greg, he remembered hearing about a neighborhood in the area.

“I knew about Cordillera way back in the ‘90s,” Greg remembers. “Soon after it opened, a few of the Air Force senior surgeons had heard about it and so I heard about Cordillera through them.” After checking out some houses on the ranch, the family settled on a lot and began the building process. “I like the openness and the quietness. We’ve done all of the club stuff; we fish at the river, Natalia used the Equestrian Center for several years, Melody plays tennis, we have dinner at the Club – the only thing we don’t do is golf.” But Greg didn’t get to settle in for long before he deployed to Iraq.

Coincidentally, when Vienne was three months old, Greg was deployed during the Iraq War to establish the Air Force Theater Hospital north of Baghdad; the first Air Force combat hospital since the Vietnam War. He was with the first group at that hospital for six months during the Fallujah campaign. Greg states, “We were the busiest combat receiving hospital probably in the history of modern warfare.”

Three months after Greg returned in 2005, he resigned from active duty and stayed in the reserves until retiring just last year. Greg is now a full-time surgical director of the kidney transplant program at UTHSCSA and University Hospital.

Although Greg is regularly humbled by the lives he saves everyday by performing pediatric and adult kidney, liver, and pancreas transplants since 1999, it was those months during the war that were the most fulfilling. “Taking care of injured soldiers and sailors and a lot of Iraqi civilians,” he begins. “That period was my most fulfilling to date and I’m sure through my career as a surgeon. And that had nothing to do with transplant; that was all combat related injuries.”

One of the most interesting cases in his career brings the two together, but it wasn’t while he was on active duty. “A few years back, the Army referred a soldier to me who had been shot in Afghanistan by a sniper. The bullet had injured his ureter and they were having a hard time trying to figure out how to save his kidney. Those guys remembered me from when I was on active duty, and asked me if I could remove his kidney and move it down into his pelvis and hook it back up to his bladder and bypass that injured segment of ureter. Something we call an autotransplant. I had done several of them in the past. We did that and he was able to keep his kidney.”

Greg is one of the 10 total transplant surgeons in the entire South Texas region. And with the large volume of referrals from well outside the area, it’s an understatement to say that he has a busy schedule. For now, he is focusing on ways to make things easier on his out-of-town

patients. “We will probably do some more outreach clinics to some of the more remote areas that we get patients from, like Laredo, Corpus and The Valley. Just to make it easier for patients to not have to come all of the way out to San Antonio for follow-ups.”

As for what the future holds for the Abrahamians, it’s all in the hands of Natalia and Vienne. “What’s next all revolves around the kids,” Greg says with agreement from Melody. Natalia is a full-time competitive hunter jumper equestrian and Vienne is a team gymnast who trains 18 hours a week. But between the two of them, it’s certainly nothing Melody and Greg can’t handle.