Circa 1995. Pro golfers are – in many ways – the toughest athletes I’ve ever encountered. Learned a lot from them. – JDW
Of all hazards, fear is the worst. – Sam Snead
Some things you can never really understand unless you have been through them yourself. Like childbirth. Or the PGA Tour’s
Qualifying School. Ask any golfer about his experiences at the Qualifying School and the first thing you hear is … silence.
It’s almost as if Q-school leaves its students speechless.
Then the emotions come pouring out.
“It’s like getting ready for final exams in college, where you have to pass this really difficult class to get your degree,”
says Mark Wurtz. “There’s so much pressure. It comes down to that one tournament every autumn that makes or breaks your year.
Whether you had a good year competitively or not, if you don’t get through qualifying school, it’s a big let-down. Mentally, it
is real stressful.”
Wurtz, now playing the PGA Tour, speaks with not a little experience.
“I tried Q-School five times. It was a huge mountain to climb, really tough. You are up against the best golfers in the
United States who aren’t already on the PGA Tour. That was more of a mental thing to get through. It wasn’t like you had to play
great golf, you just had to play good, steady golf.”
Steve Rintoul, Oregon Amateur champion in 1988 and two-time All-American at the University of Oregon, knows steady golf is
not always good enough. Rintoul, who won the G.I. JOE’S NORTHWEST INVITATIONAL in 1991 at Heron Lakes, also needed five tries to
graduate from Q-school.
“There’s a fine line between the guys who make it and those who don’t. You can play very well at Q-school and not get your
card. Everybody else might play just as good. There’s just no room to screw up,” offers Rintoul. “Golf is such an emotionally
and mentally taxing game, anyway. One competitive round can offer so many highs and lows. At Q-School, every shot is crucial. You
can hit one bad shot and it can take you right out of the golf tournament.”
And when you are out of this tournament, you are straight out of luck. Imagine a game of musical chairs with 1000 players
and just 40 places to sit.
Here’s the format. In October, the first stage of 72 holes is held at nine different courses around the country. About 37%
of the entrants advance to the second stage, another 72-hole tournament, held in November at six new courses. Some 32% of
those competitors advance to the finals, a six-day, 108-hole tourney to be held this year at the Bear Lakes Country Club in
West Palm Beach, Florida. The top 40 and ties become PGA Tour members. The 70 also-rans, pardon the expression, become members
of the Nike Tour.
The entry fee for all three stages is $3,000. And two letters of reference, one from a PGA pro attesting to your ability as a golfer, and another from a non-relative attesting to your character.
As if 208 holes of tournament golf aren’t test enough.
“Just getting through Q-School is the hardest thing in the world, it seems like,” Rintoul says. “It’s very, very difficult.
You put so much pressure on yourself to get your card. I’ve seen guys make double-bogies on the last hole and miss their card by a
shot. I have seen guys hit two balls in the water on the last hole to miss by a shot. There’s nothing worse. Nothing worse.
“You play like hell for six days, you feel you have been in the tournament forever. Then all of a sudden, it comes down to
the last hole and you’re right there on the bubble. And now you need to make a par on the last hole to get your card. If you
don’t, you go home. It’s a tough situation.
“You’ve heard all these horror stories about PGA Tour Q-school and what guys have done to miss it and how guys have
screwed up. Boy, when I was staring at that last hole that last day, I’ll never forget it, I was thinking of every single way I
could screw this thing up, rather than focusing on the positive. Somehow I eked out a par. I just didn’t want to be another horror
story people are talking about years later.”
Today, Rintoul and Wurtz are on the PGA Tour where the pressure to excel continues. Because anything worth having is
worth fighting for.
“Once you get your card, that’s quite an accomplishment,” concedes Rintoul. “But, boy, when you get it, you better be ready
to play. Otherwise, you are going to find yourself back at that school.”
You don’t even want to think about it. Once is plenty.
Golf is like an eighteen-year-old girl with big boobs. You know it’s wrong but you can’t keep away from her. – Val Doonican
MARK WURTZ. NO ACCIDENT THIS NORTHWESTERNER ON TOUR.
You see those PGA guys on network television shooting casually unbelievable scores on lush target courses with courtesy
cars and fancy logos splashed all over everything which they get for free anyway. Shots like a magician. Country clubs and 24-hour
room service. Caddies who do so much more than tote your clubs.
The pros make it look so easy. Like they accidentally stumbled into the life of a big-time, world-class professional
golfer. What a lucky deal.
We forget. Some guys work all their lives to get there. Some never make it.
Mark Wurtz made it. Seems he always wanted to play on the PGA Tour. Mark Wurtz got there. And now that he’s right where
he’s always wanted to be, he’s a man on the move. A tough guy to get hold of.
A tough guy. He’s only 5’9. ” Probably doesn’t weigh 160 pounds but Mark Wurtz is tough. Takes one tough sonuvagun to be a
top pro golfer these days. Going up against the world’s best week after week, million dollar purses, The Great White Shark ain’t
the only shark in the PGA Sea, you can bet your putter on that.
Very tough.
Focused, too. Born and raised in the Seattle area, the 30-year-old Wurtz, who plays out of Washington’s Port Ludlow Golf
Club, has had one goal in life since he first hit a little white dimpled ball at the age of eight. To play on the PGA Tour.
The boy spent more than a little time on the cherished links of the Tam-o-shanter GC in Bellevue. Honing his game.
Disciplined. Dreaming. To play the PGA.
Why golf? “Probably because my Dad was a golf pro. If he had been a fireman, I’d probably be putting out fires for a living.”
Not much different than the PGA.
His father was a big influence on Wurtz. “I first learned how to play the game by caddying for him in tournaments. Growing
up, the Washington Open, the Oregon Open, Northwest Open, tournaments like that, the Payless Classic, I would caddy for him
as a junior golfer. I learned a lot about the game by caddying.”
High school? Learned there, too. Wurtz won the state championship in his sophomore and junior years. As a senior, he placed second.
Hard working. He attended the University of New Mexico for a few years on a full-ride golf scholarship. Turned pro in 1986, when he tried
to qualify for the Australian Tour. Came home broke. Worked as an assistant club pro in Palm Springs. Worked as a valet parker.
Wurtz finally found some sponsors and started playing full-time on the Golden State Mini-Tour in the winter and the Canadian Tour
in the summer. Man won the ’91 Canadian Tournament Players’ Championship and the ’92 California State Open. Played the Asian
Tour. Talented. Tenacious.
Success in golf depends less on strength of body than upon strength of mind and character. – Arnold Palmer
“It was a struggle at first,” Wurtz admits, “because I was barely surviving, barely making enough to keep going. It was a
really good experience for me, playing without any money, figuring out what I have to do to play well. Competition was an
eye-opener every week. I learned from my mistakes a lot faster. I learned patience, the importance of a positive attitude.
Practicing hard. My preparation for each tournament improved as I became more focused. I learned what I had to do with my swing to
hit the ball a little better.”
Wurtz played the Portland Invitational twice. His biggest memory of the PI was missing the cut by a single stroke.
“The purse was the big attraction for a good field,” Mark recalls. “I remember it was the highest purse in the Pacific Northwest for any golf tournament.
It was a nice tournament because you could make some money. The PI was open, not just to the club pros, but to anyone who wanted to play at the professional level.
All the good players from the Northwest gathered together. That was one thing I really liked about it. The tournament took place on two very nice golf courses, and was run very well. The PI has a lot of respect from the players. I never heard a bad word about the Portland Invitational in the years I’ve been around it.”
He has, however, spoken a few choice oaths himself about another golf competition. Five times Wurtz took a shot at the PGA’s Qualifying Tournament, sports’ most grueling entry
requirement. Basically, your whole future, everything you have dreamed off since you were a small child, is on the line. At Q-school, Mark didn’t make the cut. Again and again.
Which is a lot like flunking an entrance exam. Or finals. He’s worked to play the PGA Tour since he was eight, remember.
Years later, more experienced, somehow more determined, he placed 19th. Won a ticket to The Big Show. He can play the PGA Tour. He can. He really can.
I was out on the golf course, a guy came riding out in a golf cart and said, did you know Elvis died? And I just said, there you go. It was like I had kinda been expecting it. – Mac Davis
His boyhood dream suddenly this man’s life, in 1994 Wurtz entered 29 major-league tournaments. He placed in the money fourteen times. Finished in the top ten one weekend with an
eighth place tie at the Motorola Western Open. “That was my biggest thrill my first year on the PGA Tour,” Wurtz admits. And his biggest check.
His lowest moment? “I missed four or five cuts in a row, so my lowest point was that fifth week, I guess.” He took some time
off, because “when you start to miss cuts like that, you tend to start losing perspective.”
First year on the Tour, Wurtz’ official earnings totaled $103,252. Unmarried, his expenses unofficially totaled $70,000. He’s not getting rich, but he’s right where he wants to be.
“On the PGA, you’re playing on better golf courses, you’re putting on better greens, playing with better players,” Wurtz says. “Your game can improve so much faster in those surroundings
than they can on the mini-Tour level.”
Wurtz feels more pressure playing on the PGA than the mini-tours. “My last couple years before I got my card, on the mini- tours, I felt like I had as good a chance as anybody to win. On
the PGA Tour, when I step up on the tee, I feel like just another player. There are so many great ones on the PGA. I felt the same way my first year on the PGA Tour as I did when I was starting
out on the Canadian and Asian tours. ‘Oh God, this is all different.’ You don’t know many people, you haven’t played these courses before. Then, after I played the mini-tours a couple of
years, I started to get a bunch of top finishes. A lot of good play is just getting comfortable with your surroundings.”
While Wurtz has found the PGA welcoming, he made more friends on the mini-Tour level. “The PGA is very business-like, says Mark. “You are playing for a lot of money, a lot of the guys
have their families traveling with them. On the mini-tours, you get through with your round, you go out and have a couple of beers and dinner with the guys. On the PGA, the players get
through with their rounds, then they practice until dark, thenthey go home to the wife. Which is fine with me. Business-like doesn’t bother me.”
Mark Wurtz has been dreaming of the PGA since he was elementary school. Has it met with his expectations?
“I really like it out there,” he says. “I have never thought about doing anything else. Ever. I really enjoy what I am doing, which is just a big ol’ roller-coaster ride. When you get off,
you want to get back on to prove to yourself you can do it. Maybe it’s the challenge that keeps me going. To play the nice golf courses every week, play with the best players, play for that
kind of money they’re playing for out there. Getting a few endorsements, Ping and Izod. It’s really been nice. It’s everything I thought it would be.”
How about some advice for another little boy with a dream or a guy still playing on the mini-tours? “Perseverance is important,” Wurtz notes. “If you want it bad enough, you’ll get
there. You look at these guys on Tour that are playing their best golf, their ages are between 35 to 40. Keep trying.”
The simple answer almost every time in almost every sport.
Life, too.
I didn’t miss the putt. I made the putt. The ball missed the hole. – Don Christopher
This is Wurtz’s second year on the PGA. Just flew in from New York, where he stayed with friends and cashed a check at the
Buick Open. Finished 21st at the Byron Nelson the week before.
So, he’s taking the time to do some R&R with Mom and Dad. Barbara and Ted.
The weather is so good, seems Mark is never home. These are the days to play a friendly thirty-six holes with someone whose company you enjoy. Places to go, people to see, things to do.
Like caddying for his father, the Washington Senior PGA Champion, a lifetime member of the PGA.
No, golf didn’t happen to Mark Wurtz by accident. Although whenever you watch him on television, logos everywhere, he makes the game look so easy.
The dreams, the hard work, the perseverance, aren’t so easy to see.
Stop thinking, let things happen and be the ball. – Ty Webb
Wouldn’t you know it. The Curse of The Sportswriter. 1995 was his best year and he didn’t last.
On the PGA Tour (1994–95, 1998), his best finish was T-8 at the 1994 Motorola Western Open.
On the Nationwide Tour (1996–97, 1999–2005), he won the 1997 Nike Shreveport Open.
Wurtz is currently a golf instructor. He’s probably pretty damn good.