I didn’t grow up playing golf.
That feels important to say upfront, because a lot of people assume golf is something you either inherit or get handed early. Dad played, Grandfather played, so you played. A house full of pressed shorts and polos.
That wasn’t me.
Both my parents have their roots in Mediterranean Europe - Malta mainly, with a little bit of Italy thrown in for a bit of spice. Golf was not a sport handed to them either. 😂 I also grew up in the western suburbs of Sydney. The sport I played was footy, rugby league to be precise. That was the game you played as a young boy. Golf existed somewhere in the background, like tennis or squash, but it wasn’t something anyone around me took seriously.
So when I say my golf journey didn’t really start until my early twenties, that’s not a romantic origin story. It’s just the truth.
Golf Was Never Elitist for Me
My introduction to golf came through my footy mates from my playing days at Parramatta, Joey Bartolo, Johnny Tyrrell and Danny Crnkovic. We were just friends looking for yet another game where we could challenge each other, compete, and have a laugh along the way, trying to hit a ball with a bag full of sticks.
We played on public, or “municipal,” courses. Nothing flash. No real dress codes. Golf wasn’t elitist or precious. It was just a place to hang out with your friends, enjoy a few drinks, and play very badly.
I played semi-regularly, maybe once a month. Enough to enjoy it. Not enough to care. Then life did what life does.
Footy stopped. Backpacking started. The world opened up. Golf disappeared.
The Pre-Kids vs Post-Kids Golf Divide
When I returned to Australia, family became my priority. Looking back on most people's golf journeys, there are very real “pre-kids” and “post-kids” eras.
Golf asks for time. Two(ish) hours if you’re looking to get a quick 9-hole round in. Four(ish), if you’re lucky to get time for 18. That’s easy when you’re young and free, or when your kids are older and independent. Everything in between is… complicated.
I tried to introduce my kids to the game early. Got a club in their tiny hands and had a few hopeful moments. But the bug hadn’t bitten me yet, so I didn’t really push it.
In hindsight, that’s one of my bigger regrets. I am envious of parents who play rounds with their offspring. Nothing would make me happier.
Get them playing early and often.
The On-Again, Off-Again Years
Golf came and went in phases.
When I started my own business, MassMedia Studios, a digital agency, back in the early 2000s, golf slipped back into second place. Then third. Then somewhere near the bottom. I still played the odd game each year, but not consistently. Nothing that resembled commitment.
When I sold that business, interest in golf surged again. This also coincided with a trip to Sanctuary Cove with my wife, Linda, and daughter, Loren, to celebrate the sale of the business. Whilst up there, I had my first proper golf lesson. I was spraying balls everywhere, trying to absolutely murder them.
The pro looked at me and said, calmly:
“You’re trying to kill the ball. Stop trying to kill it. You’ll hit it straighter with more rhythm and less strength.”
That one sentence changed how I approached the game. And honestly, how I approach many things. He also convinced me to get my first fitting for a set of clubs - I walked away with a set of custom Henry Griffiths golf clubs. Knowing nothing about golf clubs and not knowing too much more about how to play, I took what he gave me.
With my new hardware, I was ready to take my game to the next level. Mitch Van Reyk, a good mate of mine, was the main influence in getting me back into the game, along with Danny Crnkovic and Chau Luong.
Mitchy got me playing more seriously in my late thirties and early forties. I even became a member of the “Royal” Massey Park Golf Club for a couple of years and finally got an official handicap. A handicap that seemed to be stuck in the mid to low 20s for some time.
Being a member didn’t mean playing every week back then, and looking back at my scorecards, it was still very sporadic. A few holiday games here and there, a quick nine holes on a Friday morning at Woollahra Golf Club with Danny and Chau, and some challenging games with my brother-in-law, Garry Francis, at Kogarah Golf Course. The one course where a few holes came with a bonus lungful of aeroplane exhaust fumes.
Those Woollahra games with Danny and Chau deserve a bit more colour as they were memorable. Preferred lies were a given, no matter what state the course was in, (especially Danny) and the sledging was brutal and constant. You had to really stay focused amongst the noise, because breakfast at “Bitton Rose Bay” or at “Gustos” in Bondi was always on the loser.
In 2015, the startup world interrupted the game again when I started Drive Yello. I let my Massey Park membership lapse as I just wasn’t playing enough golf. DY distracted me from the game for about five or six years, right up until the world changed forever when the pandemic hit.
COVID, Clubs, and Commitment
The COVID pandemic and the lockdowns that followed reshaped people’s lives in all sorts of ways. Some positive. Some mostly not. A few months after COVID hit Australian shores, I joined Moore Park Golf Club.
The lockdowns drew a lot of people to golf. Partly because it was one of the few sports you were allowed to play, and partly because working from home suddenly made it possible to fit a round into the day. I was drawn to Moore Park not just because I now had the flexibility to play, or because golf was one of the few activities still permitted, but because the membership itself made a lot of sense.
It was flexible and monthly, and it included a lesson each month. There was no guilt if I couldn’t play every week, and it was a relatively inexpensive way to play as often as I liked at a course close to both home and the office, while actually improving my game with regular lessons.
That was it.
Side Note: I think it’s a travesty that the NSW Government is considering reducing the size of Moore Park Golf Course in the name of creating more “green space.” Moore Park is already a green space and is used. On any given day, more people are walking it, playing it, and engaging with it than anything likely to replace it.
It’s one of the best public golf courses in Australia, heavily played, and supported by outstanding facilities. It runs programs and memberships that make golf genuinely accessible, particularly for kids and women, two groups still underrepresented in the game. It’s also more relaxed and welcoming than many traditional clubs, making it a critical entry point for people new to golf.
If we’re serious about inclusivity, accessibility, and keeping public sport available to everyone, courses like Moore Park should be protected, not carved up.
You can show your support by signing the Save Moore Park petition here.
As I started playing more, Mitch stepped in again and convinced me to get fitted for my third set of clubs. This time, properly fitted, and with at least a little golf knowledge under my belt. We decided to support an old school friend’s business, The Golf Traders in Stanmore, run and owned by David Fearns, who looked after me. I’m pretty sure David was the only guy at my school who actually played golf as a school sport. Once I had those clubs in my hands, something shifted.
This wasn’t casual anymore. This was habit-forming.
For the gear nerds: TaylorMade M2 irons, a Stealth driver and woods, and an Odyssey putter. I’ve upgraded everything since, except the irons. They’re still in the bag.
Then Everything Clicked
By this point, I had my clubs, and I was all in. I set up a chipping net in the backyard of our new place in Maroubra, and that’s what really kicked my game into overdrive. Not only did it improve my short game, but it also caught our builder's attention.
Paul Khoury, or PK as he’s affectionately known (aka mini Vin Diesel or Pitbull), casually suggested I should come and play at a real course and consider becoming a member. And yes, you guessed it, it was the one and only St Michael’s Golf Club.
We played one round. That was it.
Something clicked. The course. The people. The challenge. The environment. It felt like golf at its absolute best.
Joining wasn’t cheap. Thousands to sign up. Thousands each year after that. But around the same time, I inherited some money from my parents. I decided then to put some of that money toward something that would remind me of them regularly. Nothing was more regular than how often I planned to play golf.
So I joined.
Every round I play there feels like a quiet tip of the hat to my parents. Gratitude wrapped up in the fairways and salt air. I still pinch myself every time I’m out there.
Addiction (The Good Kind)
As you can probably tell by now, golf has slowly become an integral part of my life.
Not because I want to win, although that’s always part of it, but because I want to beat myself. My score. My expectations. My patience.
That’s the addiction.
The thinking about it when you’re not playing. Looking forward to it all week. Playing once, then twice, then somehow three times a week.
Unless you play golf, you don’t really get it. But it doesn’t take much explaining once the bug bites.
I was committed to improving my game and lowering my handicap. So committed, in fact, that I set myself a goal to get it under 15, from a starting point of 24, within 12 months. Mitch scoffed when I mentioned it, so I challenged him to a friendly wager.
More on that wager in a future post.
Golf Everywhere, Always
I now always travel with my clubs. Italy. Malta. Vietnam. Bali. Fiji. Portugal. The US. If there’s a plane involved, my clubs usually come too.
Playing a brand new course in a new country is one of the best experiences I know. Different grass. Different conditions. Different scenery. Same internal battle.
One of the best golf experiences I’ve ever had was walking the Royal Golf La Bagnia Golf Course in Tuscany, near Siena. Just me and my buddy Mark Watson. The views. The silence. The quiet recognition of just how lucky I was to be there.
It felt like what I imagine hikers experience when they trek through vast landscapes and mountainous vistas, fully present and completely absorbed in their surroundings.
Playing golf is my version of that. It’s how I walk through some of the most beautiful landscapes in the world, in whatever country I happen to be in.
Merging My Obsessions
I’ve been a founder most of my life. I once wrote that being a startup founder is like being a drug addict.
I stand by that.
But I’m comfortable saying now that being a golfer is exactly the same.
Over the last few years, I’ve played more golf than ever. Competitions. Different formats. Different people. And alongside that, I’ve started pulling my passions together: golf, business and technology.
That’s where The Golfer Network started. Not perfectly. Not exactly how I imagined. But as a foundation. A way to learn the industry. Build a brand. Meet people. Understand what golfers actually care about.
There are more projects coming. Events. Content. Tech. Community.
More on The Golfer Network and other ventures in future posts.
Golf is changing. It’s becoming less elitist, more inclusive. Younger players. More women. Simulators. New formats. New tournaments. More access for amateurs.
And I’m just genuinely excited to be part of it.
Long live the golf addiction!