A seemingly low-key story gained some national news this week when Grant Whybark, a golfer for the University of St. Francis (Illinois), decided to do what he assumed was just a random act of kindness at his conference tournament. Whybark
A seemingly low-key story gained some national news this week when Grant Whybark, a golfer for the University of St. Francis (Illinois), decided to do what he assumed was just a random act of kindness at his conference tournament.
Whybark had already qualified for the National Association of Intercollegiate Athletics championship tournament, because his team won the Chicagoland Collegiate Athletic Conference tournament. The conference tournament he was now competing in awarded an automatic spot in the NAIA field to the individual finishing in first.
So when he finished the tournament tied for the lead with Olivet Nazarene University’s Seth Doran, the two went to a sudden-death playoff to determine a winner. But since Whybark had nothing to gain from a win, he struck his tee shot out of bounds and eventually made double-bogey, handing Doran the win and the spot at nationals.
Whybark told reporters that he and Doran have known each other for the past couple years as competitors and have a mutual respect for one another.
He made clear that his act of generosity did not take a spot away from another player. Had he won the playoff, there would just be one less player in the upcoming field.
A number of questions have been asked since his decision was made public, with some people unfazed and others uneasy about the incident.
No they aren’t professionals, but should a player ever intentionally lose a competitive event?
What should Doran feel about making the national tournament in such a way?
In this specific case, I completely understand Whybark’s intentions and feel like he was doing a nice thing for an accomplished opponent. It’s not as if he had a huge lead on the field and just quit to give someone else a spot. The two players had tied for first place in the tournament. Both had proven their mettle.
So when they stepped up to the playoff tee, Whybark realized he had nothing further to play for. Someone he felt was just as deserving as he to go to nationals could get shut out because of one bad hole.
Complete aggression can sometimes be toned down in amateur sports.
Back when I played tennis as a kid, there would be times in a tournament where my opponent seemed to be playing over his head. It’s not like I was ever so dominant, just sometimes a player gets put into a situation where they can’t realistically compete.
So now and then I would lower my game a bit. Maybe take something off my first serve, or keep the ball more towards the middle of the court, rather than going for winners down the line.
That type of attitude does have its place. I don’t want to see it from professional teams I root for, because that somewhat cheapens what they do, as well as the fact that they have a responsibility to the fans who pay to see them perform.
The one problem I have with all of this is Whybark’s decision to make it clear that he tanked the hole on purpose. How hard would it have been to just hit an approach shot a bit short, or to push a putt wide?
It’s sort of like someone contributing a sizeable donation to a charity, but then making sure to tell everyone they see about their benevolent act.
Now this kid Doran has the knowledge that he didn’t totally get himself into the event. He very well may have won it on his own, but to have an opponent make it clear they feel superior is one of the most frustrating feelings an athlete can face.
On my high school freshman basketball team, we were playing against the only private school in our conference and one of the top teams in the state. We were way outclassed, but we played hard, resulting in one of our best games of the season. Midway through the fourth quarter, we had cut a large deficit down to seven. This team had been beating everyone by 30-plus points, so we were understandably energized.
Unfortunately, we hit the wall and they pulled away late for a 20-point win. Even though the margin had ballooned, we still had some pride at the final horn, because we knew we had given them their toughest game yet.
Much of that pride disappeared when their coach came over to our coach, shook his hand and in a very condescending voice said “Congratulations on the moral victory.”
Really? Was that necessary? Couldn’t have just said “Nice game?”
We had given them quite a scare, but they had to re-clarify their superiority by reminding us we should be honored to have stayed within 20.
What Whybark did was a nice thing, with rational thought put into it. He saw an opportunity to improve another person’s day and went with it.
But he should have just kept that knowledge to himself.
That would have made him truly superior.