My name is Brian. With an “I.”
But I go by Bry. With a “Y.”
Mainly because if I spell it “Bri,” people will call me “Breeee.”
I started playing golf when I was nine years old. My dad cut down a set of clubs for me and wrapped electrical tape around the shafts for grips.
Electrical tape.
Jimmy Demeret golf clubs.
From the 50’s.
I’m left-handed, but the clubs were right-handed.
Yep, I learned to play right-handed.
I’ve been doing it that way for more than 51 years.
I think it has helped my game. Ask me why someday.
I took to golf quickly. I loved hockey, too, but I was 4’2” going into seventh grade, so hockey wasn’t exactly in my future.
Golf was.
I played four years of high school golf, won my way to the state finals, and went on to play college golf at Roosevelt University. I played in dozens of tournaments and eventually qualified for the Illinois Open.
I was on the verge of becoming a pro.
But, three days before the Illinois Open, I tore my ACL playing soccer.
With co-workers.
On lunch.
While on vacation.
Not exactly the best moment of my life.
But before that stupid event.
In 1995, my wife built me a hitting bay in our garage.
She was my biggest fan.
That’s when the true addiction was born.
I got really good.
But a recurring issue was happening.
Like a broken record.
The dreaded blow-up hole.
I could make great golf look very easy—and then completely lose my mind on one hole.
My brain just could not allow me to play with my body’s talent.
But I kept at it.
And somewhere along the way, golf started teaching me something far more important than how to shoot a lower score.
It taught me that it’s a game.
A game that makes you use your body and your mind together.
A game that gets you outside.
A game that challenges you in ways that can be incredibly frustrating and incredibly beautiful—sometimes on the very same hole.
And, most importantly, a game that is supposed to be fun.
So why was I going to lose my mind over a bad shot?
I learned to laugh.
I learned to breathe.
I learned to look around and appreciate where I was.
I learned that golf is unbelievably difficult. For a million things to come together at exactly the right time, you have to be extraordinarily fortunate—and extraordinarily good.
That realization changed everything.
I stopped treating golf like something I had to perfect or play at a professional level.
In fact, I started enjoying it more.
And strangely enough, my game got better.
Today, I can honestly say I’m happier on a golf course than I’ve ever been.
The Shots You Never Forget
Then came one of those moments golfers dream about.
On my 40th birthday, I made an albatross on the fifth hole at Fox Bend Golf Course.
Driver.
6-iron.
DOUBLE EAGLE.
An albatross is even rarer than a hole-in-one, and somehow I made one on my birthday.
But some of my favorite golf memories have nothing to do with my score.
In 2014, I played golf with my son for the first time.
On the third hole he had ever played in his life, he made a true birdie.
A 40-foot putt.
That is the kind of golf memory you never forget.
Why I Teach
In 2026, I finally got into the business of golf.
All because my wife.
And I’m committed to growing the game, especially for kids and women.
I’ve also had the opportunity to work as a Golf Specialist at DICK’S Sporting Goods, where I’ve loved helping people find the equipment that fits their game.
But what I really love is introducing people to golf, helping them enjoy it more, and hopefully getting a few more people hooked on this incredible game.
I’m currently earning my professional teaching certification, which means lots of studying, lots of playing, and lots of learning.
And that’s exactly how I want to teach.
I don’t believe golf should be intimidating.
You don’t have to be a scratch golfer to enjoy the game. You don’t have to hit every shot perfectly. And you certainly don’t have to lose your mind over a bad one.
Golf can be competitive, frustrating, humbling, and ridiculously hard.
But it can also bring families together.
It can get you outside.
It can teach you patience.
It can teach you how to laugh at yourself.
It can give you memories that last a lifetime.
And sometimes, if you’re lucky, it can teach you something about life.
That’s what golf has done for me.
And now, I’d love for golf to do that for you, too.
Bry
