Since the day I met Annika Sorenstam, nothing in our world has been traditional. Being brought up in the U.S., plagued by gender stereotypes, I always figured that when I grew up, I would make money and my wife would take care of our children. It hasn't quite worked out that way.
Annika and I met on the driving range at Moon Valley Country Club in Phoenix in 1994. She was an LPGA rookie and I was a few weeks out of college, working for a club manufacturer. Looking back, it's hard to believe how naive we were. Our relationship has always been a learning experience, but it was the 1995 U.S. Open that truly changed our lives. After Annika won the Open—and attracted more attention than ever—it didn't seem right for me to work for a rival of Callaway, her major sponsor. Two months later, I took a job with Callaway. Soon, however, my increasing responsibilities and her schedule, which kept her on the road 35 weeks a year, made it hard to keep our relationship growing. That's why I changed careers again after our marriage in '97. I minimized my role at Callaway, becoming a consultant, and took on a new role: I became "Annika's wife," as many people have joked.
I'm often asked by corporate executives, "David, what is it that you do?" Having long since overcome any problem with machismo, I'm not ashamed to say that I support my wife. I help with her travel arrangements, handle much of her correspondence and take care of the countless details of her career so she can focus on her golf. (I hate laundry, though, and refuse to do it.) It's Annika's golf, after all, that has allowed us to explore the world together. It is Annika's golf that provides interesting, rewarding careers for us. Someday she may decide to use the name Annika Esch. If that never happens, though, it's all right with me.