I got an email last night from Tina Bradley-Mayers that her father had passed away. Jackson Bradley was a dear friend to me, and although I didn’t see him all that much, we’d always pick up like no time had passed. He helped me out with my golf swing when we first met in 1986 at The Hills of Lakeway. And again at Riverhill in Kerrville. Then he was kind enough to sit down and tell me stories of his life in golf for an article in Austin Golf Magazine in 2004. After our interview, he insisted we go out and play nine holes at Austin Country Club. (That’s a shot up there of him approaching the 6th green in our match that day.) I was 39 and a 0.4 handicap. Mr. Bradley was 84 and was showing signs of Parkinson’s. We talked about how it really only affected his putting, and if he could time it right, he could still putt fairly well. He shot 37 and beat me by 2, and while I was grinding my ass off, I feel certain that he was toying with me.
Rest in Peace, Mr. Bradley. See you on the other side, where I’ll be calling for a re-match.