Thank You, NIT

My thoughts coming off a special week at No Laying Up's Nest Invitational Tournament

This past weekend, I took far too early a flight from Jacksonville to Phoenix, picked up my bags, and saw an ad for a self-driving taxi service. Intrigued, I downloaded the app, saw the fares were lower than for rideshares, and booked one. A few minutes later, the app told me that my ride was here, and I looked up to see a car displaying my initials stopped in the traffic lanes of the passenger pickup section. I checked to see if I could call it out of traffic; there wasn’t one. I lugged my clubs out into the traffic lane, helpless to do anything but wave to the honking drivers behind me, just trying to get my clubs into this car as quickly as possible — which, of course, didn’t fit in the trunk, leaving me to toss them in the backseat, shuffle under them, and start my ride with airport dirt smeared on my pants.

My high school class held our five-year reunion two weeks ago. Most of my classmates are over a year out of college (I’m a year behind them after my gap year — shoutout COVID), and there’s a similar refrain: I like my job, I work with great people, I eat a lot of shit on a day-to-day basis, but don’t we all, comes with the territory of entry level positions, I’m just really happy to be in the industry, and I can’t wait for my couple years to be up before I can dump some of this shit on the next batch of recent grads. People are happy, and on a deeper level they’re frustrated with the shit they need to eat, but deeper-still they’re grateful to have the opportunity to eat that shit instead of not being there at all.

I was lucky enough to tell people that I was playing pro golf and working for a golf media company, and that I was flying out to Phoenix the next week for their Nest Invitational Tournament — where I was headed in the self-driving taxi. That ride itself was, in the end, great: there’s a big screen that shows you surrounding traffic and its planned path through it, which ups both the feeling-of-safety- and wow- factors. That it took an extra 15 minutes because autonomous vehicles aren’t yet allowed on highways was no problem. It felt like an own goal that I couldn’t play my own music in a car with no driver, but, at the end of the day, it’s a self-driving car, and that’s cool enough in itself to endure a couple shortcomings.

Pulling up to the house, something I’d known for a while finally hit me in feeling form. I’d listened to hundreds of hours of these guys talking, to the extent that they feel like genuine friends of mine; at the same time, I’m meeting them for the first time, and they have no idea who I am. Personally, this feeling compounded twice: first, because I’m young enough to have quite literally grown up listening to their podcast, and second, though golf chose me a long time ago, NLU made me sure that I wanted to pursue it professionally, both in competing and commentating. Not to mention, they are my employers. And this feeling extended to the Nest members, a community that not only believes in NLU like I do but also financially supports what I do. For all these reasons, I realized I was nervous to meet everyone — as a recent grad still trying to cultivate my own brand/sense of self, I really wanted to make a good impression and fit in.

During a day or two of meeting everyone, I realized I was reaching out for a lot of handshakes and being pulled in for a lot of hugs. TC dapped me up on his way in the door while declaring Phoenix the worst city in America. 3PuttKing, Trevor, and the rest of the Canadians helped me decide which NHL team to bandwagon this year (still in the Ken Bone Zone: undecided, open to campaigning). I got a thorough scouting report on Coach DeBoer from HSBallCoach (maybe too-thorough — it’s still a good football team!). I got to know my NLU youngling compatriots, Jordan and Chris, after hours at the blue table. Maybe most telling: everyone I ran into, NLU team or otherwise, asked me if I was having a good time. If you think about it, this is a strange question to ask an entry-level employee on a business trip. But, then again, there’s something special about NLU.

Case and point: I really wanted to talk to Lauren Coughlin for an interview. I want to write a piece on her journey (teaser), how she got herself from struggling on Epson to a top player in the world. In a sense, hers is the exact journey I’m trying to make. And so I thought all weekend about how to reach out, the right questions to ask and how to ask them, how to properly conduct my first interview and get the information I wanted, if I should just let her enjoy a fun weekend and reach out later. And then, the last night, she just sat down and talked to me for a solid 90 minutes about her journey and how I should learn from her.

At risk of sounding cynical: growing up in 21st century America means learning that there’s usually a catch. Most internet services are free to use if you’re ok with them collecting more data about you than you can fathom. You can find a franchise for a chain restaurant and order the same food you get at home if you’re ok paying a brand premium (the first of many shocks finding my way around pro golf travel: local delis are cheaper than chains!). Commerce is as convenient as it gets if you’re ok being asked to “tip” 20% extra without knowing where the money’s actually going. A scene from The Bear really hit home for me: Carmy’s at home talking to Claire, and says, “this is really nice… so nice, that …”. And Claire finishes, “that you’re waiting for the other shoe.”

Now, at risk of sounding neurotic or dumb: it took me far too long to internalize that NLU really is a place where “nobody’s keeping track of shoes.” I — maybe you as well — have developed this constant low-grade immune response to the clicks economy. A part of me has been trained to ask why something feels good, who’s profiting off me feeling this way, if there’s a curtain to be pulled back. And, to this effect, being at the NIT and meeting everyone face to face felt like avoiding gluten or dairy for the first time — a whole new feeling that left me wondering, “is it really supposed to feel this good all the time?”

Pro golf is obviously a solitary endeavor, as is writing; past a certain level of abstraction, they can feel self-serving to a degree of frivolity or onanism. To this point, while I’ve known that both are important to me, the question “why” has remained something of an open one. Yes, I want to win, and I want to grow and develop at my crafts to grow and develop as a person, but I’ve wondered if I’m really directly serving any greater good.

This weekend at the NIT gave me an answer: I want to make people feel the way that you all made me feel this weekend. NLU is a golf podcasting company, but it serves some greater force. The one that urged KVV and Tron to pick up bags in 100° heat to caddy in the championship. That brought Lucas across the country to pull cards out of lemons and bring Randy’s genuine wonder to us all. That lets a kid go on a work trip and have a great time with zero catch and leave feeling invigorated, a part of something meaningful.

Of course, this goal comes with its paradoxes: how to sell the feeling of not being sold to, how to measure success if not by engagement, how to grow an audience without pandering to the algorithmic overlords. These are open questions for me, though NLU seems to do pretty damn well at rising to the challenge every day. And I’m going to do what I can to deliver on my end.

In the meantime, to everyone involved in this community, I want to extend the most heart-felt possible thank you, both to the NLU team and to the entire Nest. I’m not sure many young people get to work doing something they think matters. I think even fewer of them get to do something they feel matters. And even fewer still get to do any of this while feeling part of an unequivocal good. I haven’t taken my orange bracelet off, and it makes me feel good every time I see it on my wrist. I’m incredibly, incredibly lucky, and I hope to do my small part in inflicting the same good you’ve given me.

To that end, more longform pieces are in the works, as well as a newsletter I’m hoping to make regular. I’m slowly figuring out social media as well. In the meantime, if you have something you’d like to see or know more about, or if you want me to look at a swing video, or have a book recommendation, or want to play some golf, please reach out. You can DM me at @connorbelcastro on Instagram or Twitter (it’s called Twitter in this house!), email me at connorbelcastro@gmail.com, or tag me on the Refuge at @connor. I’d love to hear from you.

Once again: thank you all, and I look forward to seeing more of you.