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Harvey Penick understood his role as a golf professional involved serving others.
By helping Tom Kite and Ben Crenshaw develop into major champions, along with co-authoring practical golf books with journalist Bud Shrake, his calming, service-oriented words became among the most influential in American golf history. Every golfer or industry professional can benefit from reading and rereading “Harvey Penick’s Little Red Book” and “And If You Play Golf, You’re My Friend.”
Penick used anecdotes from an exemplary career at Austin Country Club to reveal the practicality and passion required to enjoy a seemingly impractical game and business. Penick served the same membership nearly his entire life. He arrived at the club as a caddie in 1913. He was just 8 years old. He served as golf professional and golf professional emeritus from 1923 until his death in 1995. He was 90 when he died. No one lasts 82 years at the same demanding club without a service-driven mentality.
Think industry pros make tremendous personal sacrifices today? Consider what Penick and his peers endured. Penick coached the University of Texas golf team from 1931 to 1963 while also working at Austin Country Club. How the industry treats people has advanced immensely since this demanding era.
Penick’s and Shrake’s collaborations offer breezy reads. If you’re seeking mid-summer inspiration, they hit the target.
The final line in a four-paragraph section titled A Hard Job in “And If You Play Golf, You’re My Friend” epitomizes the daily, weekly, monthly and annual conundrum superintendents and their teams face:
There is no way a greenskeeper can please the good players, the average players, and the bad players all at the same.
Yet, in 2025, thousands of turf professionals will attempt to please every one of the thousands of golfers who play their courses.
Why?
Part of the reason stems from personal stubbornness. Vegans never order steaks; authentic environmentalists don’t purchase pickup trucks. But somehow people spend entire golf industry careers expecting consumers to appreciate their courses equally.
Not all courses were developed and designed with the same intent. Layouts with gnarly rough, punishing hazards, pinched greens and slick, sloping greens appease a set of low-handicappers with significant disposable income.
On busy days, these courses might accommodate around 100 rounds, with members and guests making more birdies than doubles, trips and others. Their superintendents operate under rigid expectations: stimulate the familiar faces and their sweet-swinging friends. If somebody fires 119 and finds the course too challenging, that’s fine. The business doesn’t exist to accommodate casual golfers.
Dilemmas occur when a facility struggles to identify and understand its core customers. These courses tout themselves as being something for golfers of all levels. They strive to “dial it up” for showcase days, then quickly return to cluttered operational models. Superintendents and other managers at these clubs become overstressed and overtaxed, running rampant to satisfy expectations never clearly communicated by owners, boards and committees.
Good luck concurrently pleasing somebody who can break 70 and a 70-year-old who struggles to carry the ball 70 yards. Instead of a service-focused mentality permeating a club, customers begin thinking they work for the course as managers and employees exhaustively chase unachievable success.
In Penick’s words, the job is “hard,” especially in the middle of rough summer. Chaos can be avoided with an understanding that it’s OK if not every golfer relishes what your course provides.
Serving others means working for people who understand what core customers want. Proceed with caution if somebody suggests they are trying to please the high-, mid-, low- and no-handicappers.
Believe Penick’s poignant observation: Striving to serve all golfers makes a hard job even harder.
Guy Cipriano is Golf Course Industry’s publisher + editor-in-chief.