The author is putting it all on the line for a shot at pro golf

By Shane Bacon

Unlike the famous commercial that introduced the best golfer to the world, I am NOT Tiger Woods.

He may not be Tiger Woods, but Shane is hoping for a big season on the Gateway Tour. Photo coutesy of Shane Bacon

Nor am I Phil Mickelson, Ernie Els, or even Boo Weekley. In fact, I have more in common with Rich Beem than I do with Adam Scott (even though I do own an argyle sweater).

I am a left-handed golfer and recent college graduate, ready to take on the meandering world of the Gateway Tour, professional golf's version of competitive Triple-A baseball. I hit the ball pretty average for a kid my age, putt better than most and struggle with keeping my three-iron on the green. A year ago, I was finishing up my tenure as a student at the University of Arizona and my only college golf activity was a huge victory with a buddy at the annual fraternity golf scramble (I still have the trophy). I enjoyed my four years in Tucson by studying hard, partying occasionally and even taking a semester trip to London.

My senior year of high school I was burnt out by the constant grind of the American Junior Golf Association, the high school golf schedule and the search for a college outside of Texas, my birth state. I decided to head west to the desert where I found beers, buddies and a solid B-average. I also found a passion of writing about sports.

I might not have the resume of some of the top college golfers, but I do have the mindset to succeed in an industry that continues to throw people like Zach Johnson in the mix. See, that is the difference between golf and say, basketball. No six-footer who hit jumpers in high school would ever consider walking up to Jerry Colangelo and telling him that he could really back up Steve Nash. This theory holds true in football and in baseball. I can't think of another sport where a kid with minimal tournament experience over the past five years would fork up the green to try his hand at the sports he's always loved to play.

So, over the next few months I'll be recording my cut-making, club-slashing, birdie-attempting trails and tribulations. Most people only see the glamorous side of the golf world. You know, the "if I miss this putt for the victory I only get $800,500 instead of $1,200,500" world that offers free iPods and Sidekicks at every venue so you'll want to come back the next year. That world includes the big names that make the huge birdie putts with the even larger fist pumps.

The world I'm entering defines a different breed. Sure, we're all shooting for that perfect life of worrying about which Bentley will fit more snug in the eight car garage, but here you see guys gunning for other things. People are chipping for rent money. They are out competing to put together the scratch to take a run at PGA Qualifying School at the end of November. These guys are the ones that golf jokes are formed around -- "Never bet a guy on the first tee with a dark tan, a squint in his eye and a 1-iron in his bag."

Remember, when the first peg goes in the ground, it isn't who you are or where you came from -- it's who gets the best score. I might not be Tiger Woods, but I'll be trying to emulate him as best I can, because no matter if you play Augusta National or Talking Stick Golf Course, golf is just a four-letter word.