The Senior PGA tour. If you're a golf buff, you've probably toyed with the idea. We found one chief executive who actually did it. And guess what? Surviving the Senior PGA Tour makes building a business look easy.
How golf-mad CEO Jim Holtgrieve actually made it onto the Senior PGA Tour -- and why you never will.
IF you're a golfer (to be specific, if you're a male golfer and still have some time available before you turn 50), then you know this moment: You've flushed a four-iron to a tucked pin from 200 yards over water, or you've finessed the perfect sand save from a greenside bunker, or you've just hit your driver on the screws (nice draw, middle of the fairway). And in that moment you say to yourself, "Pro shot."
And then you start thinking, "Maybe ..."
Meaning, maybe if you took the time and really worked at your game, then maybe you could make the Senior PGA Tour once you turn 50. (Fifty being the minimum age for players on the Senior Tour.) After all, you've hit shots just like the ones you see the guys on TV hit -- not as many such shots, granted, and not as often. But still. That's why you'd train. You'd hire the swing doctor, the sports psychologist, the nutritionist. You'd hit buckets of balls every single day. Of course, people would say you couldn't succeed, but that's the sort of talk you're used to. Dedication, perseverance, sacrifice, willpower -- who's got more of that than you? You've built a business, for chrissakes. Golf? Golf is a game.
And anyway, even in your daydreams you're not entirely unrealistic. You don't picture yourself beating someone like Hale Irwin, who's 56. Irwin has won close to $20 million playing golf, and just last summer he was seen smoking players more than 25 years his junior -- Tiger Woods, David Duval -- to take the first-round lead in the U.S. Open.
You don't have to be that good. All you have to do is beat the Ted Goins and John Schroeders and (remember this name) Jim Holtgrieves of the world -- a bunch of guys you've never heard of, who make up the bulk of the Senior Tour. The way you figure it, they're getting paid what must be an obscene sum of money for playing golf, taking home five-figure checks each weekend for playing three rounds on a beautiful course while being pampered at every turn. You'll get a free luxury car to use during the tournament. You'll be handed new clubs and clothes. Heck, you'll even get paid to play a certain brand of golf ball.
Sheesh, where do you sign up?
Well, let us -- and Jim Holtgrieve -- tell you.
Turns out, it's surprisingly easy to take a shot at playing pro golf. While there are elaborate rules governing who is automatically allowed to play in a senior tournament -- based on a complicated formula that takes into account lifetime winnings, current-year earnings, and whether you've won a tournament recently -- there are three ways around all that.
The first one you have probably heard of: the (misnamed) Q-school, or qualifying school. It's not a school at all but a series of elimination tournaments. If you qual- ify for the last one and play well there -- finishing among the top 8 in a field of 140 or so -- you're exempt for a year: you can play every Senior Tour event you want over the next 12 months.
The other two ways are not as well known but actually give you a better chance. One is a sponsor's exemption.
The people putting on a specific tournament can, for any reason, invite four people to join the field. So, here's the chance to put your networking skills to the test. Find someone who knows someone who knows the tournament director and start groveling.
The last way? Simply show up on Monday of the week the event is being played and give it your best shot -- probably your best 68 of them or fewer.
Here's how the Monday qualifier works. Almost all the senior tournaments are "opens," meaning that they'll give up to 72 people a chance to play in the qualifying round. Shoot one of the four best rounds of the day on Monday, and you're in.
"Anyone who declares himself to be a professional and is over 50 is eligible for the Monday qualifier," says Gary Becka, vice-president of administration for the Senior PGA Tour.
Sounds simple enough. You could do that, right?
Well, no.
Stop for a minute and consider your competition at Q-school or the Monday qualifier. Sure, there will be a few people like you. But the majority of the field is made up of true professionals, guys who used to be on the regular PGA Tour or the Senior Tour but who haven't done well enough recently to be exempt.
"There's an awful lot of money out there, and I need it. I don't have any endorsement deals to fall back on."
--Jim Holtgrieve
Collectively, the people scrambling for a spot are known as rabbits, the guys who get just a nibble at "the lettuce," which is what the players call money.
There are two things to know about those rabbits:
They're very, very good.
They're very, very hungry.
Let's introduce to you one of the rabbits, the aforementioned Jim Holtgrieve, who will serve as our guide for what life is like on the Senior Tour. Holtgrieve, according to Senior Tour officials, is the only former small-business CEO who's ever made the tour; he spent some 15 years running a manufacturer's rep business in St. Louis. If, at the end of our whirlwind overview, you're still game -- and think you have the game to eat his lunch on a consistent basis -- then by all means turn pro. (Our money is on Holtgrieve.)
Speaking of money, let's start there. How much could you make?
Well, if you're Hale Irwin, Tom Kite, or Gary Player, quite a lot. If you're Holtgrieve, it's a different matter.
For one thing, you pay your own way: air travel to and from the tournaments, the hotel for the week, the food -- it's all on your tab.
Holtgrieve -- someone who asks the locals where he can get a good meal inexpensively and whose idea of an upscale hotel is a Sheraton -- keeps a profit-and-loss statement for every tournament he plays in. He figures he spends $2,500 to $3,000 a week when he's on the road. (See below for Holtgrieve's P&L for the NFL Golf Classic, a Senior Tour event played last June in Clifton, N.J.)
