The drama was the highest I can remember. A generational player, who I have been rooting for since he burst onto the scene as a teenager, rose to the occasion, overcoming failures, to win the green jacket and the Grand Slam of his career. It was must-see television. However, choosing to watch that cost me the opportunity to watch my favorite player of all time play the round of my life.
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Unfortunately, that’s what I remember most.
That player is my grandfather, Ed Bates from Havana. Many know him as “Big Ed”, but to me he is simply “Grandpa”. He was the head professional and club manager at Havana Golf & Country Club for three decades and taught me most of what I know about golf. He is now 92 years old and had to stop playing last year after a medical stint made it very difficult for him to maintain his sweet swing. Last Sunday at the Masters, I shot a 76 and missed.
I had a feeling too. My dad urged me to play that day and I really wanted to do it. Playing with Grandpa has always been one of my favorite pastimes, but I convinced myself to spend the day watching TV to see Rory. I’ve been regretting it ever since.
Dad called me shortly after Rory made his winning putt. I figured I wanted to recap an epic Masters. Instead, he told me shot by shot of Grandpa’s epic round. “Jay, you missed something special today,” he told me. “I couldn’t fail.”
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Dad walked me through dozens of moments when Grandpa turned back time to surpass his age by 15 strokes. A mountain of Paris. Birdies that made the group scream. A good putter and its characteristic fairway finding drives. I immediately sank into the couch, knowing I had made a huge mistake.
Ed Bates recounts his round of golf with his grandson Jay Revell
Then I called Grandpa to hear the story straight from the horse’s mouth. I could tell he was proud of how he played, but he’s as balanced as they come. “Yeah, I had a good one,” he said. The funny thing was that even though Dad and the others weren’t expecting such a low round from a nonagenarian, Grandpa played for so long because he always thought he could do well. He told me, “I hit it well, I hit it well and I scored well. However, that’s how you’re supposed to do it.”
Before hanging up, I told Grandpa that I hated missing such a nice round. Eager to play with him, we made an appointment to do so at the end of that month. I decided to go out on a Thursday afternoon to join him and Dad for the weekly group in Havana. I’m glad I did it because it turned out to be the last time I would get to do it.
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The magic he found last Sunday at the Masters wasn’t there that day. Of course, he was over his age again, but it wasn’t a 76. I played well, but I was much more interested in seeing him swing. We had a great time. Like hundreds of times before.
After the round, I performed a ritual that I have been doing for a few years. I took the ball I played with that day and exchanged it for the last ball I had used to play with him. I had stayed with them every time in case it was the last. You never know when your grandfather will be 90 years old.
I still have that ball in my bag. A Titleist Pro V1x. Red 8. I was hoping to get a chance to discard that one too, but I didn’t. About a month later, his health worsened a little. He recovered, but his golf days did not.
I am lucky to have had so many golf memories with him. He and my grandmother took me to play in Jr. tournaments throughout the region. He gave me more lessons and knowledge about the game than I can remember. He was my high school golf coach, my biggest fan, and was always available to talk about my game. The most important thing is that every time I wanted to play, the answer was always yes.
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It is now April 12, 2026, Masters Sunday again.
There will be drama. Someone will win a green jacket. Dreams will come true. Unfortunately, I’ll be glued to the TV again and wishing I was in Havana watching my true golf hero chase a low score. I’ll call him after the tournament to get his opinion, but that’s not the same as playing alongside him.
What a thing to miss.
Jay Revell is a golf writer based in Tallahassee, Florida, and has written two books: Swing, Walk, Repeat and The Nine Virtues of Golf.
This article originally appeared in the Tallahassee Democrat: Grandpa’s round of golf was better than the Masters