The Fate of Western Civilization...Or Not..

   This is the week of the McGladrey golf tournament, and, again, I am paying for the privilege of working as a volunteer. For the past two years, I have been used as a marshall, whose job has been to keep non-existent crowds quiet on obscure holes of the course. I say that, tongue in cheek, because this event does not attract the large numbers of people that flock to the larger events on the PGA schedule, and so, if I do not work on the finishing holes, where the people congregate, most of the people I see are players, caddies, and other volunteers. I get to watch a lot of good golf on the hole where I am stationed each day, but my work is minimal, to be sure.

 

   This year, I requested a change in jobs and ended up on the walking scorers committee. This must be a pretty good job because I notice that, of the 88 spots available to work on this, 80 of them are filled by folks who have done this job before. Since the tournament is only in its 3rd year, most of these volunteers probably worked last year. So it could be a job worth keeping.

   There is some stress in this position. I have to walk along with the players, keeping stats and scores on a handheld device that automatically sends the inputs back to the trailer where the PGA officials keep up with who is doing what out on the course. What if I mess up? Can I be the one who causes a disaster in the world of professional golf? Does it really matter? Will the world stop because I enter an incorrect score?

 

   All of a sudden, as I walk a little this morning, I think of the Starfish story that I heard many times while working the Kairos ministry in prison. The story goes briefly like this:

   While walking the beach one day, a man noticed a bunch of starfish scattered along the beach where they had been stranded by the receding tide. Shortly they would all die, the result of being out of the water on that hot day. Then he noticed a man up ahead of him going along, throwing starfish back into the ocean. Realizing that there were thousands of starfish on the beach, and catching up to the man as he bent down to toss another back, he asked him what difference it was going to make. There were so many starfish, such a long beach, and the whole enterprise was way beyond what one man could accomplish.

   The man spoke, as he bent down to pitch another one into the sea, "I may not be able to do much and it may not make much difference in the whole scheme of things, but it will make a difference to this one that I throw back". And he kept walking and throwing.

   So, how do I see the starfish story and the golf tournament working together? I see a small job, with minor influence on the world, being important in the eyes of the people who run the event, but more so to the people who depend on me to get it right, the players that walk with me.

   The fate of western civilization may not rest on my shoulders, but I do want to make a difference to the ones who depend on me to get it right.

   Now if I can just get this little hand held thingy figured out.