“Never fall to the mercy of excuses. Instead find the problems and create the habits that will have you accomplish your goals.”- VJ Trolio

Let me start by saying I still have a long, long way to go, and I always will.

But damn, that felt good!

—

You must understand that as long as I am heading in the right direction competitively now, I am going to be pleased. I understand how insanely good elite golfers are, I understand what scores awesome golfers shoot, and I understand what scores are necessary to be competitive in the PGA Professional Section events that I now play in.

But I also understand where I was roughly four years and eleven months ago as I started this golf journey at the exact spot where I played my first tournament of 2024 this past Monday.

—

I remember clearly the sight of that empty parking lot. It was an early Sunday morning in April 2019 at Timberton Golf Club in Hattiesburg, Mississippi. When I pulled in, there was not one car in the parking lot. I can’t remember if it was Easter morning or what, but I was there by myself, and I was ready to learn how to play golf.

I remember being on the chipping green behind the clubhouse, excited at each shot that I hit crisply and curious about each shot that I did not. I was just beginning a new life, one that saw me transition from being a banker in downtown Charlotte, North Carolina, to being the only car in the parking lot that day in southern Mississippi.

I was making a ludicrous leap and an absurd bet, and I was blind in knowing what the possibilities actually were. But I started chipping, alone with my thoughts, and for four years and eleven months now, I haven’t stopped.

—

When the 2024 Gulf States PGA Section tournament calendar came out, I immediately identified Timberton as the site of my first tournament of the year. Feelings of nostalgia greeted me warmly. I remember when I used to struggle to break 95 here five years ago.

The tournament format was not individual stroke play, but instead a more fun, less pressure packed mix between a four ball for nine holes and a nine hole scramble. But still, I got excited for the test. Let’s see how far I’ve come.

My boss/mentor and I play these two person events now, he a lifelong excellent golfer and me, a four year and eleven months work in process. He’s watched my progress, helped me with my game, and been very patient with me. This is a game where you can’t skip steps. You can’t suck and then all of a sudden be good. That’s why it’s a great game.

—

My heart still races leading up to my opening tee shot, but I’ve found a way to handle it. I keep myself busy and occupied until it is go time, and then I walk up to the tee box, tee it up, then calmly knock the shit out of the ball. Monday, my first shot couldn’t have been hit any more perfectly: 285 yards and right down the middle. I could exhale.

It took me pieces of two holes to settle in and feel comfortable, but I did, then it was off to the races. For holes 1-9, I shot 38 on my own ball, a couple of missed short putts being my only blemishes. For holes 10-18, we scrambled, but as reasonably as I can estimate, I shot 37 on my own ball. A season opening unofficial 75 (ish) on my own ball and an official two man team score of 68 started my playing year off with a fulfilling smile.

—

I hadn’t done anything spectacular all day. Good, yes. Really good, at times. Great, no. We were on our next to last hole, a par 3, and I had hit my tee ball to about 35 feet. I had an impossible putt, but hey, I practice impossible putts all the time. I looked it over, visualized it, hit it, and bam! We all yelled! Boom! One finally dropped.

I finished with a tap in par and exhaled. Did I really finally play an entire 18 hole tournament round from start to finish at a level that I deemed acceptable? First drive was great. Last three holes were great. Everything in between was more than satisfactory.

Did we really just finish smack in the middle of the pack (with me pulling my weight) in a PGA Professional Section event four years and eleven months after my being terrified of hitting the cars in the parking lot, had there been any on that Sunday morning?

—

If you want to know what the journey really looks like, take this into consideration. I had a great day Monday. I was happy Monday. I was happy about Monday. I am still happy about Monday.

But I woke up Tuesday, and I literally couldn’t move. I fight my body every day.

And thus the improbable journey continues…

—

Have a great week.-Benj

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For almost a decade, maybe more, I avoided retail stores like Wal-Mart and Target like the plague. Not my thing. But in the past two months, I’ve probably been close to thirty times. Why, you ask?

Sports cards. The latest addition to my sports x fun x investing portfolio. I traded sports cards as a child, but didn’t think a lick about them for nearly 25 years.

Then LA happened. And everything changed.

—

When my son and I went to Los Angeles about five months ago, I did not purposefully pick a hotel that was directly across the street from a Pokémon/sports card trading store. It just happened. At the time, I hadn’t messed around with a sports trading card in decades. But as y’all know, I love sports, I love sports adjacent activities, and I love my son. So when he suggested that we walk across the street and check LA Sports Cards out, I didn’t hesitate.

I felt right at home in the store, and the gentlemen that worked there gave us a more than warm welcome. However, when it came to modern sports cards, I did not know anything. I didn’t know what was going on in the industry, what was valuable, and what was not. What I did know was I love investing, I love limited edition things, and I love art. Oh, and I love sports.

So I bought a few individual cards, namely Michael Jordan and Kobe Bryant, but I also bought a few random packs. I had no idea what might be in them, but there is nothing like the thrill of the chase.

I vividly remember opening the packs in our hotel room across the street and pulling a Shohei Ohtani card, who we were scheduled to see play in person later on our trip (We didn’t. He got hurt.). But I also pulled some cards that I had no idea what was in my hand. I kind of just laid them down and gave them to my son, quietly unaware if they were good, bad, or totally irrelevant.

Then I got to work.

—

I told my son that we had to learn what the hell we were doing. The process was already fun, but it would be even more fun if we knew what we were doing. We took to Instagram and YouTube, but interestingly learned the most from a Prime Video documentary about the modern card trading game.

You have cool players, cool cards, rare cards, rookie cards, stamped cards, and autographed cards. Then you have cool players on cool rare rookie stamped autographed cards. And that’s what you want.

—

My son pulled a coveted Victor Wembanyama rookie card from the Wal-Mart in Ocean Springs. I pulled a Juan Soto autograph from a WalGreen’s in Gautier. I pulled a CJ Stroud rookie Prizm from Target in D’Iberville. My office is officially overflowing with some really good stuff pulled from the most mundane places, mundane places that I now frequent like the local pub.

My son and I have a standing deal. If I pull a player from his beloved Boston Celtics, I have to trade it to him. If he pulls a player from my New Orleans Pelicans, he has to trade it to me. We negotiate and trade all the time. One time I tried to make a trade that he didn’t like, and he told me to screw off. I was very proud of him. One time I offered him a fair amount of cash for that Wemby rookie, and he made the deal. I only wish he had had some of these cool Celtics players’ cards when he met part of the team last year in Houston.

Fresh, live autos. That would have been a vibe.

—

After I learned everything that I learned, we started going through some of the cards that I pulled in Los Angeles and just lazily gave to my son. Turns out that I am a dope, and there were some real gems in there that I had to trade to get back my own cards.

Since LA, we’ve visited a card shop in New York City (Bleecker Trading) and found a local card shop (Gulf Coast Sports). All three places have been absolutely awesome, and I’m sure the card shop category will be added to all future trips.

But in the strangest of strange twists on this wonderfully wacky journey, I now like going to Wal-Mart and Target. Who would have ever thought that the thrill of the chase would take me THERE?

—

Have a great week.-Benj

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“The secret of change is to focus all of your energy not on fighting the old, but on building the new. ” -Socrates

For the past nearly seven years, we’ve discussed all kinds of change. External change. Internal change. Geographical change. Career change. On and on and on.

But sports team allegiance change? I would have never seen that coming, although I have felt it for the better part of a year.

—

During my childhood in Wingate, North Carolina, I was not a huge NBA fan, but the Charlotte Hornets were HOTTTT. Beloved players that resonated within the community, an arena that was always full, and still likely the best uniforms in NBA history. I was a fan, but not a super fan.

Fast forward to my mid twenties when I had earned a little cash, and my super fandem slowly began. Season tickets. 41 nights per year. One year I lived an hour away. I went to every game. One year I lived twenty five minutes away. I went to every game. One year there were so many games that conflicted with my MBA classes. I WENT TO EVERY GAME. I absolutely loved it, and I have some unforgettable memories. I have nights out with the boys memories, date night memories, and family memories. I have Kobe’s in town memories and worst team in NBA history memories. Towards the end of my time in Charlotte, I have some brief father son memories.

The Hornets came and went. (Interestingly, when the Hornets left, they went to New Orleans.) The Bobcats came and went. The Hornets came again. Then I came and went, ultimately landing a quick drive down I-10 from, you guessed it, New Orleans. When I arrived, the New Orleans (now) Pelicans were NOT HOTTT. Not at all. But my NBA fandem and abk thought process required that I explore.

I wonder if this might be something?

—

The 2024 version of the New Orleans Pelicans has my heart. Top to bottom when healthy, I have told anyone that will listen that they have the best team in the NBA. Currently, they are 5th in the tough NBA West and have beat the crap out of a lot of good teams multiple times this season. So far, I’ve been to six games in person and have watched the rest on Bally Sports, an app I bought for one and only one purpose. I anticipate going to another five or six before season’s end.

I’ve seen Paolo Banchero and the Magic, Steph Curry and the Warriors, Luka Doncic and the Mavs, De’aaron Fox and the Kings, and Lebron and the Lakers. However, the game circled on the calendar each year is when the Hornets come to town. After reading the first part of this piece, the reasons should be obvious, but it’s also the one game of the year that I splurge. Courtside or bust.

—

If I had all the money in the world, outside of getting a massage every day on my ever aching body, I would purchase courtside NBA season tickets. As of one week ago, I had never sat courtside, which are typically the first two or three rows of every NBA game where the comfortable folding chairs are actually on the edge of the court.

Two years ago in New Orleans when the Pelicans played the Hornets, my son and I sat semi-courtside on row 3. Great seats, but not the real thing. Last year in New Orleans when the Pelicans played the Nuggets, my son and I sat in row 3 in a different area, great seats but still not courtside. This year, I was going to make it happen.

Courtside seats range anywhere from $500 to thousands of dollars per seat (a price I’m not willing to pay on a random Wednesday night) depending on certain factors. Are we at Madison Square Garden or Smoothie King Center? Are we playing the Lakers or the Hornets? Is it New Year’s Eve or a random Wednesday? And has been my experience with New Orleans, what is the weather like outside? This year it was freezing, and real Southerners don’t like to venture out into the cold. This might provide a huge opportunity.

—

I heavily debated what I was going to wear. Would it be my beloved Charlotte Hornets gear, knowing that the gear was fresh but that deep down I wasn’t that big of a fan anymore? Or would I rock my Pelies gear, my new local 1A that totally has my heart?

I made the wrong decision, and the price I had to pay for that was explaining to all the people sitting around us why I was clad in Hornets gear but visibly cheering for the Pelicans. On one side, it’s a raw, honest, and great story. On the other side, I felt like a dope. But on the OTHER side, I now know where my allegiances lie and what I really feel.

—

Strangely, I still have feelings for my Panthers and absolutely none for the Saints. But if Carolina doesn’t get their act together, who knows. But for the next few months, I’ve got Zion, BI, CJ, Jonas, and Herb. I’ve got Hawk, Dyson, Trey, Larry, and Naji. I’ve got Jose, Matty, Cody, and even Jeremiah, EJ, and Seabron.

I know they are young. I know they aren’t battle tested. But they are deep, they are fun, and damn near the entire team has high fived or fist bumped my eight year old son with smiles on their faces.

Oh, and at least for one night, I literally had a front row seat to it all.

—

Have a great week.-Benj

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“I don’t want to be lonely, but I certainly don’t mind being alone. That’s where all the real work (and lots of fun) has gotten accomplished.”-abk

When the schedule came out, it sounded too good to be true. Lebron and the Lakers at the Pelicans. New Year’s Eve in New Orleans. Mannie Fresh and Juvenile, the rappers of some of my favorite high school anthems, performing at halftime. Texas and Washington in the Sugar Bowl the next day.

Too good to be true.

—

It was a shot in the dark, I confess, but if anyone could pull it off, he and I could. His birthday was New Year’s Eve. We had concocted (and pulled off) a never ending New York City trip decades ago. We had witnessed in person one of Kobe Bryant’s most epic performances. And we had listened to Mannie Fresh and Juvenile songs over and over in one of his Cadillacs in high school and college. Two problems: he lived 625 miles away, and I only gave him 48 hours and 20 minutes notice. Regardless, I sent a text.

No can do, but it was a valiant effort.

My normal game partner, my son, was banned from New Year’s Eve in New Orleans. Too wild.

Christy? Nope. Skip? Nope. J Dubs? Nope.

It became increasingly apparent that lots of friendly acquaintances wanted to go, but were never going to pull the trigger or be allowed to go.

So I mulled over my options, then set out on a New Year’s Eve for the ages, one that I barely remember but will never forget.

—

“If there is an intersection of sports, travel, music, and good food, if I can make it happen, I will.”- abk

I woke up at 4:30am, ready to host a sold out New Year’s Eve crowd at the golf course. It was freezing, literally, which does not bode well for a sold out crowd at a golf course. The first group typically goes out at 7am sharp, but on this morning due to frost, the first group went out at 8:35am. Nothing like a sold out crowd and we start out an hour and a half behind, but as you should now know, most problems aren’t really problems. My staff and I worked diligently for the next few hours to rearrange the day and ensure that everyone got to play and that everyone had a great time. We were successful, everyone enjoyed a beautiful day once it warmed up, and by 3pm, I was whipped, but my day was just beginning.

I took a deep breath, then drove to the casino. There were plenty of NBA games on the docket, and I had my picks. I took another deep breath, then started my drive to New Orleans, still unsure if Lebron was playing and still without a ticket in hand. All of the media was saying that Lebron was sitting out, but I couldn’t imagine him sitting out on New Year’s Eve in New Orleans. A showman is not going to avoid the show. At about 5pm, after I had already been up for nearly thirteen hours and a mere one hour before tipoff, I snagged one ticket in the lower bowl. A showman is not going to miss the show. Zion. Lebron. BI. AD. Mannie Fresh. Juvenile. This place was going to be rocking.

I arrived to The Blender, bought a local beer, nestled into my seat amongst the sold out, ready to party crowd, and settled in. I wished my son had been there, but the energy was palpable, and I immediately felt at one with the 18,433 others in attendance.

My Pelies won by twenty. Lebron still looked like Lebron, scoring 34. Mannie Fresh and Juvenile took me back twenty five years. When I say the place was rocking, THE PLACE WAS F**KING ROCKING. I had an amazing time.

As most people were spilling out in the streets after the game ready to continue the party, my day, already sixteen hours old, was just beginning. Next up? A two hour drive that resulted from the power of persuasion.

—

At 10:50pm CST, I pulled into the family farm, ten minutes to spare until the ball dropped in Times Square. Eighteen hours and twenty minutes earlier, my very full day had begun. I had hosted a successful day at the golf course, traversed two states, watched an electric ballgame, made a couple of dollars (shout out OKC Thunder), and now was reminiscing with loved ones about a wild day and full 2023. Somehow, I made it to 12:07am local time before I crashed. Nineteen hours and 37 minutes. Too busy to remember. Too memorable to forget.

When I woke up at 4:30am almost twenty hours prior, I had no intention of spending that night in any other bed but my own. But life is meant to be lived. So I spent the entirety of New Year’s Day in the same clothes as I wore the entirety of New Year’s Eve. It’s a good thing that most problems really aren’t problems.

—

Have a great week.-Benj

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“Most people don’t want to be a part of the process, they just want to be a part of the outcome.”-Scottie Pippen

The journey is definitely not lonely, but it does require being alone a fair amount.

As much as I like to video and take pictures, nearly all of the real work takes place when the phone is off.

Make sure the expectation of improvement matches the level of work you are putting in, or you are just lying to yourself.

If you want to change, start by doing just one thing differently than you are accustomed to doing it.

I love sports. They have elicited every emotion that I possess in my being.

My favorite thing about golf remains its difficulty. Money cannot buy getting good. Only talent x proper practice x extreme dedication can get you good.

I’ve been working on my Ph.D in golf for 2 years and 1 month now. My goal is to be complete in 1 year, but that’s just some arbitrary date.

I’ll finish it when I finish it.

I couldn’t put an 18 hole tournament round together this year to save my life. 9 holes? I might shoot a blistering 33. 18 holes? I’d crumble like a cookie.

When I don’t play well, it irritates the hell out of me, and there is no other way to say it.

Learning the skill and being able to perform it on demand is the ultimate fulfillment.

That, and being able to communicate it clearly to my students so that they can do the same thing.

I have a boatload of eagles, one albatross, but still zero hole in ones.

I tell my students during a putting lesson that the ball will either go in the hole or it won’t.

I love teaching someone that truly wants to get better. The fakers, not so much.

The year I was an All-American in college soccer, I expected to score every game. If I didn’t, it was a surprise. I haven’t yet developed that mindset with golf, but I’m getting closer.

I actually punch in on an old school time clock.

I chose hourly over salary because it allows me more time to travel the world. Simple as that.

I traveled to the four biggest cities in America this year: LA, NYC, Chicago, and Houston.

That Braves-Dodgers series at Dodger Stadium was so good.

The stench of weed is making American cities smell terrible.

The four day trip is absolutely perfect.

In my new career, I manage 20 year olds and younger and 60 year olds and older. Nothing in between.

After working in a small business and experiencing the inner workings, if I went back to being a commercial banker, I would be 100x more effective.

Wednesday through Sunday, I am surrounded by people. My office is like Grand Central Station. So Monday, Tuesday, early morning, and late afternoon are for ME.

It’s getting close to time to put down our last dog. That’s something that doesn’t get any easier.

Moms have some kind of superpower that us dads, no matter how hard we try, will never have.

I like it when the kids are causing a ruckus because I know I will miss that energy deeply years down the road.

If we could skip the ages of 0-1.5, I would have at least six kids, maybe more.

My most favorite thing in the whole world has been having the ability to take my kids to school every day. For almost five years now, I have taken either my son, daughter, or both to school every single day.

With New Orleans right around the corner, it’s a wonder I’m not 800 pounds.

Shrimp and grits. I repeat, shrimp and grits.

The fall leaves were sensational in southern Mississippi this year.

I could listen to song mashups on Instagram and YouTube all night long.

And by all night long I mean by 9pm. Then it’s bedtime.

If you don’t remember our interaction, I haven’t done my job.

I have so many interests that I really have to reign myself in.

In my next phase, I’m going to plan sports trips for fathers and sons so that they can build the incredible bond that my son and I have.

I’ve always talked to my son like he’s an adult. Sometimes I have to remind myself he’s only eight.

You are 100% in charge of how you design your self and your life. However, you are not in charge of many things that may happen to you.

Family. Friends. Travel. Golf. New Orleans. Rinse. Repeat.

Losing is a part of winning, and losing is a part of the process.

I lose all the time. I create posts that get no interaction. I lose at sports betting. I’ve finished near dead last in golf tournaments.

My ultimate fantasy right now is to take six months off and go to all 82 Pelicans games, home and away.

To successfully turn fantasy into reality, you still have to figure out the logistics.

Being able to adjust and adapt has got to be the most underrated skill out there.

My biggest fight is with my body. Most days I win it, but some days I don’t.

I hate not being able to write an abk piece every week, but I am maxed out.

abk is just me being 100% me.

I am busy, fulfilled, and happy, but my knees do hurt.

—

Have a great year!-Benj

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(Sing it)

On the first day of New York

When we got out of the air

We went straight to Friedman’s

To eat in Herald Square

On the first night of New York

We climbed way up in the sky

And watched the bright lights

From 86 floors high

On the morning of day two

We slipped below the ground

Took the subway to Yankee Stadium

Way Uptown

On the second day of New York

The kids played with slime and goo

At a place down in SoHo

Called SlooMoo

On the second day of New York

Through the fake bags in Louis brown

Me and grandmother

Survived a walk in Chinatown

On the second night of New York

We trained to Belmont Park

And watched NHL hockey

Until way, way after dark

On the second night of New York

Midnight in Times Square

A bike taxi ride

With a $200 fare

On the morning of day three

The rains came from the sky

So we had a big breakfast

To stay dry

On the third day of New York

A date to The Lion King

Grandmother and Banks

Watched Pumbaa and Timon sing

On the third day of New York

Christmas on Wall Street

We drank at Delmonico’s

But we did not eat

On the third day of New York

With my son to Bleecker Trading

Bought some cards

But could feel my energy fading

On the third night of New York

Date night on Avenue A

I felt under the weather

So we really couldn’t stay

But the food was super funky

And the pasta super good

Shame I had to eat it in the hotel

Instead of the cool East Village hood

On the morning of day four

We saw the Christmas tree

And resisted

A Saks Fifth Avenue shopping spree

On the fourth day of New York

The Rockettes stole the show

While me and the kids

Walked the city super slow

On the last night of New York

Live from MSG

The Knicks one thirty six

The Raptors one thirty

As we walked to the hotel

A cheese pizza slice in hand

I thought This City

Is the Greatest in the Land

On the fifth day of New York

I can say without a doubt

It was a wonderful holiday trip

But I’m completely worn out

The week started in a secret courtyard in New Orleans, Louisiana. Obviously.

—

To pull off this reimagining last week, I had to get up really early. 5am Wednesday, 5am Thursday, 4am Friday, and 4:30am Saturday. In fairness, I’ve become used to it. I’ve got a lot I want to do, and it was no different just because it was Thanksgiving Week.

I spent Monday night in New Orleans with my son and his granddaddy. I spent Tuesday night just outside of Hattiesburg with a whole slew of family. After an afternoon of teaching, I spent Wednesday night down on the coast, alone with my son’s cat. I spent Thanksgiving morning on the coast with roughly forty golfers, Thanksgiving afternoon with my North Carolina family via FaceTime, and Thanksgiving night with my Mississippi family outside of Hattiesburg. Exhausted and back on the coast after Black Friday at the golf course, I went to bed at 6:30pm. Saturday, refreshed and rejuvenated after what felt like a lifetime of sleep, everything was back to normal.

I did enjoy my roughly six hours of turkey, traditional family, football, and nap time, but in true abk fashion, it was the nontraditional food and activities that really stole my heart. I’ve never really liked holidays. As you all know, I like action, and traditionally on holidays, the action slows to a snail’s pace.

I don’t personally care much for the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, but I do love Monday Night Basketball in New Orleans. I don’t personally care much for Black Friday shopping, but I do love the Thanksgiving Day Shootout now in its second year that I put on at our golf course. I don’t personally care much for sitting around doing nothing, but I do love autumn leaf watching. I don’t personally care much for turkey, but I do love oysters, sushi, and Chicago style hot dogs.

However, along the abk journey, I’ve tried to learn to be respectful of the traditions that are important to the people I care about while still experiencing the new things that I find interesting and fulfilling. It requires lots of compromise, lots of driving, and lots of getting up very early. (And the occasional alone night with my son’s cat.) But I’m getting better at it every year.

Which is how I found my way inside a secret courtyard in New Orleans last Monday night.

—

I knew it was going to be a memorable meal when the host asked, Do you want to sit inside or in the secret courtyard? I had eaten here once before, and I had no idea there was any courtyard, let alone a secret one. It was 75 degrees outside, so it was a no brainer.

Also, happy hour in The Big Easy on any night is like a holiday in and of itself. $5 glasses of red wine. Insane deals on oysters. Since it was a holiday week, a decision did not need to be made. Bring six of those. A plate of those. Some of those. We will graze like cattle.

Good grief it was good! Grandaddy offered me a beer at the game about an hour later, and I had to decline else I spontaneously combust.

—

It makes me happy that these new, exciting, and interesting traditions are gaining some traction. It makes me happy that other people, not just me, are enjoying these new ideas and activities. I finally feel like I understand myself, and I’m building a community that I understand and that understands me.

On that note, it’s time to see if the 3rd Annual abk Golf and Friends Holiday Hunger HackerFest will make an appearance this year.

—

Have a great week.-Benj

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For six and a half years now, I have shared my experiences in unlearning, experimenting, and building. It has been quite the journey leaving a stable career as a banker in North Carolina to somehow, some way becoming a golf professional in coastal Mississippi.

Along the way, I’ve tried to share as many experiences and learnings as possible. Because I hate being told what to do or how to do it, I’ve never had any interest in telling anyone how to do anything, only in telling the accompanying stories that might provide an aha moment here and there.

It has been a complex journey to build the abk lifestyle that personifies how I want to live my most fulfilling and authentic life, but one of the main tenets of the journey remains so simple.

Discover (by doing lots of things) those things that light my heart on fire.

—

It’s no secret that I have a never ending list of interests. I love variety. I love living. Of that list of interests, I have found that I like certain things, enjoy doing others, really like others, and then a select few set my heart ablaze.

I like jet skiing. I enjoy playing golf. I really like big family dinners. And then there is another category that produces a feeling, yes a feeling, that is hard to articulate. I feel it at certain times with my daughter when after causing a ruckus all evening long, she lays her head on my chest. I feel it when I get to break away from the golf course midday on a Saturday to speed over and watch my son play soccer. I feel it every year now as Labor Day approaches, knowing that the Annual Father/Son Sports Trip is about to commence.

And I really, really feel it when I see the leaves on the trees begin to turn. The bright yellows, dull oranges, and piercing reds literally take my breath away.

The feeling of being alive.

—

For my first few years in coastal Mississippi, I lamented the lack of leaves changing. Maybe because I was paying attention to so many other things, I overlooked some sneaky good areas that were right in front of my face.

The golf course that I look at every single day has ten to twenty sneaky good trees. Many of the roads just fifteen miles north have sneaky good trees. Hell, even the parking lot at the local Lowe’s has sneaky good trees.

After I dropped my daughter at school this morning, I went tree hunting and leaf watching. I found a beauty, and it set my day ablaze.

—

It’s T-Minus 24 days until a trip to New York City, but I’m certain the beautiful leaves there will all be gone by then. That’s the thing about this particular beauty. It’s fleeting. It comes and goes. It’s why I love October and November so much.

But luckily for me, the changing leaves linger into late November where I live. Next week, I have to travel just over an hour north along a route that used to bore me to bits. But I’ve got good news. The route has sneaky good trees, especially the reds.

So if I’m late for Thanksgiving dinner, just know that I’m okay. Better than okay. I just had a few pictures to snap to hold me over for the next ten months.

—

Have a great week.-Benj

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The only purpose of the lesson was to help my player, a very good 9th grader who is one of my favorites, be prepared for anything, and I mean anything, that could happen on a golf course.

Whether the situation was good or bad, weird or annoying, odd or downright goofy, I wanted this lesson to help him learn how to keep a steady attitude and stay focused on the task at hand.

I had no idea how fantastic this lesson would actually turn out to be.

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I give most of my lessons out on the golf course instead of the driving range. Most of my players are trying to get better at playing golf, and golf is played on the golf course. With many of my players, I play with them during the lesson. This way, they get to watch how I handle myself, we sometimes compete, and many a times I want to show (not tell) them something.

With this particular student, it’s a little bit of all three, but he has gotten so good, we now definitely compete. (There’s a standing offer to his dad that the first time he beats me the lesson is free.)

But in this particular lesson, it was all about demeanor, resilience, attitude, and mental fortitude regardless of what might happen. I had a few simulated tricks up my sleeve, but it turned out I wouldn’t need many of them.

—

Straight out of my office, I double bogeyed the first hole like I’ve done a million times. It used to be annoying. Now I just laugh.

I birdied the second hole, as I confidently told my player I would.

My player jumped up to the third tee in front of me, which usually doesn’t mean a damn thing to me. But I wanted to throw some things his way, so I kicked his ball off the tee. Don’t jump in front of my birdie. He got pissed and started to unravel. Had he not chipped in for a remarkable par about five minutes later, this lesson would have been over.

The fourth hole runs adjacent to an outside neighborhood, and every now and then, a teenager or two sneak onto the property. On this day, it was a guy and girl, the guy dressed like Spider-Man, and they decided to roll around in our bunkers and steal our boundary stakes and bunker rakes. Caught in two minds between playing, teaching, and being the golf professional, I ran them off with my glare, but I was indeed annoyed. Distracted, I double bogeyed the hole after a perfect drive, a victim of my own golf lesson.

I birdied the next hole, obviously.

I double bogeyed the next hole, inexplicably.

I narrowly missed birdie on the seventh, then remarkably again double bogeyed the eighth. Boy, we were all laughing. Double bogey, birdie, kicking a golf ball, Spider-Man, birdie, double bogey, nearly another birdie, and then another double bogey? Little did we know I was saving the best for last.

—

Throughout the roller coaster of a lesson where I almost had to call the police to eradicate the trespassers, I stayed focused on the next shot, kept a great attitude, and laughed a lot. I couldn’t do squat about what had already happened, and that’s what I wanted to teach my young blossoming player. Laugh (or be annoyed) about Spider-Man, but birdie the next hole.

After I made my fourth, yes fourth, double bogey in eight holes, my player and his dad were nearly speechless as we approached the ninth tee. Just finish strong. That’s all I was thinking as I piped one down the middle. I had 158 yards into a front left pin, and just to put an exclamation point on the greatest golf lesson ever given, I hit the ball straight into the hole for eagle.

Four doubles, two birdies, two pars, one eagle, a kicked golf ball, my player chipping in, a Spider-Man sighting, and a near phone call to the police.

How did you do that, my player asked as we all laughed hysterically.

One shot at a time. Nothing less. Nothing more. It’s a goofy game.

—

Have a great week.-Benj

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I have a tattoo on my right tricep that says, dream big. I’m certain that when I got that tattoo, I thought to myself: dream big, work hard, achieve said dream. What I never thought about was that the simple act of dreaming big could lead to something beyond my wildest dreams.

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Never in a million years did I think I would spend twenty or so random nights each year in New Orleans, Louisiana, one of the most culturally unique and culinary obsessed cities in the world. Never. Yet here we are, back for another season of Nights in New Orleans, the 2023-2024 edition.

It just kind of happened. Proximity to my new home. My love for cities. Creative food and drink. NBA basketball. My endless appetite for the spice of life. From October to March two to three times a month, the city keeps me jazzed up. As the darkness sets in, the gumbo heats up.

—

For outsiders like me who didn’t grow up close to New Orleans, the city is thought of more as a destination. Think Mardi Gras (been twice), the Super Bowl, and JazzFest (been once), not a random Tuesday night. That’s why I have to laugh to myself now and again, usually on the drive home, usually with a full belly, usually with my son chattering at me or sound asleep in the back seat.

The logistics of these nights are simple. They are typically Monday or Tuesday night, though I will entertain other nights for more exciting matchups. They require about seven hours of time, $150 to $200, and an open mind and empty belly. Let’s do Lebron and pizza. Let’s do Luka and seafood. Let’s do Giannis and soul food.

Dream big.

—

Last year, Christy, Banks, and I went to Mardi Gras. Banks and I (and sometimes granddaddy) went to twelve Pelicans games. Christy and I ate until we were blue in the face for my birthday. I flew out of there a few times. I played a couple of golf tournaments in the general vicinity. It’s wild to go to a once in a lifetime place twice a month, but that’s the new routine. (The new routine that is anything but routine.)

I hope to make that about fifteen games this year. Fifteen new restaurants. Fifteen interesting meals. Fifteen chances to watch ball with my son.

—

The brilliance of these nights is that most of them are unplanned. That’s why I haven’t bought any of the partial season ticket packages that the team constantly emails me. I love the variety and playing the game too much. Most of the time, I buy tickets and choose that evening’s restaurant on the ride over to The Big Easy. I’m feeling like being close to the action and Cajun food or I want a good deal on tickets and a roast beef po’ boy.

Never in a million years. Seriously. But here we are. We did it again last Tuesday. Paolo and ribeye tacos. I’d love to do opening night next week vs. the Knicks, but I have a conflict. But the following Monday, now that poses a real abk question.

What type of food pairs best with Steph Curry, Klay Thompson, and CP3?

—

Have a great week.-Benj

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Follow along on Instagram @anythingbutkhakis, @abkgolf, and @anythingbutkhakisphotography.

If you enjoy these and would like to get the weekly piece via email, please follow on the website http://www.anythingbutkhakis.com.