Northeast Philly's McCloskey cherishes Masters memory

OF ALL the traditions at the Masters, few are more endearing than Wednesday's Par 3 Contest. It's mostly about having a good time while sharing the afternoon with family and friends, one last chance to relax and enjoy the setting that is Augusta National before the crucible of the season's first major gets going.

Jimmy Walker took last month's low-key competition with a score of 8-under 19. But nobody got more out of that day than Kevin McCloskey, a 28-year-old double amputee from Northeast Philadelphia. Just for being there.

Blind in one eye, with prosthetics on both legs, he caddied for 2010 U.S. Open champion Graeme McDowell. And on the last hole, he even got to hit a tee shot. The fact that it went into the water hardly mattered. For someone who at one point didn't want to live anymore, the moment meant everything.

"I walked where no one else gets to walk," said McCloskey, the youngest of three children, who also has a fake hip, pelvis and wrist. "It's not even a once-in-a-lifetime chance. Going to the Masters is once-in-a-lifetime. This was way past that.

"My dad's dream was always to go there. When I got the call, the first thing I thought about was him. When I told him I was going, his face lit up like Christmas morning . . . They asked me if I'd be OK walking those hills. I told them they could strap a 50-pound anvil on my back and I'd make it around."

McCloskey suffered his injuries in Afghanistan on June 8, 2008, when the Humvee he and three other U.S. Army soldiers were riding in hit a land mine. None of the others was injured anywhere near as seriously as him. He ended up in a hospital in San Antonio, where he was put into a drug-induced coma for almost two months to keep his body still while he began healing. He finally returned home on Halloween, the same day the Phillies were parading down Broad Street after winning the World Series.

They held a parade for McCloskey, too, on the block in Mayfair where he lived.

"There were hundreds of people there," he recalled. "I remember getting out of the limo and seeing all that. I still get filled up talking about it. That was the moment I realized everyone was behind me. That's how it is in the neighborhood. When something goes wrong for somebody, everybody comes together. But it's a process.

"When I got hurt, I never was knocked out. When they started putting tourniquets on me and telling me I was going to be OK, I just wanted them to let me go. Then I was in a helicopter. That's the last thing I remember until I woke up and realized what had happened. My dad basically said that God only gives this to somebody he knows can overcome it.

"The first couple of years were tough. I was in and out of depression. But maybe there was a reason why it happened to me."

He still celebrates June 8 as his "Alive Day," even more than he does his birthday.

McCloskey had played football as a youngster and wrestled at North Catholic. The only time he touched a golf club was when his father held putting contests in their living room while watching tournaments on television. "I always thought (the game) was kind of nerdy," he acknowledged. That changed three years ago, by accident. He was at Juniata Golf Course, where some of his friends were playing in an outing. He drove a cart out to a hole they were on, which happened to be a 160-yard par 3 where you could win a prize by hitting a ball closer to the pin than the designated pro. McCloskey used a driver and hooked one that went off a tree and a fence before bouncing onto the green.

"It was one of those days where I just didn't feel like sitting in the house," he said. "They kind of forced me to take a shot. I guess that was my calling.

"But who uses a driver on a hole that short?"

He's now about a 15 handicapper, which means he can shoot in the mid 80s. Along the way he got a set of clubs made for him by Callaway, through the Birdies for the Brave initiative to aid wounded veterans. Last August he was a guest at The Barclays at Plainfield Country Club in Edison, N.J., the first event in the FedEx playoffs, where he did commercials for the PGA Tour and Callaway.

When it came time to find a vet to go to the Masters, his name came up. "They could have picked anybody," McCloskey said. "I guess somebody liked me." McDowell holds a charity event each year in Northern Ireland, and one of the auction items was a trip to Augusta. The person who put in the highest bid donated it to the Birdies for the Brave. And that's how McCloskey ended up in the bucket-list spotlight. He even got to bring his wife of a year, Bridget, along for the memories.

"The brought us down Magnolia Lane," said McCloskey. "You can bring a camera in on Wednesday, so we took tons of pictures. I made sure I remembered all the little details so I could tell my dad. They said we hope you don't get starstruck. We went to the caddy shack, and you kept bumping into somebody. It was really cool. That morning Graeme had put up a video (on social media) driving down Magnolia Lane where he said if anyone can get the song (playing) in the background, I'll send you my shirt from today. So when he walked in I started dancing, (singing) 'Every Little Thing She Does is Magic.' And he started laughing, because I got it right. So that broke the ice . . . But I never did get the shirt.

"He talked about Philadelphia. He knew about all the sports. Then he asked about my injuries, Afghanistan, how I grew up, my wife and family, about everything. He was just a regular guy. His dad tried to talk me into taking the (caddie uniform) with me. But I don't think they want you to do that."

Paired with Ian Poulter and defending champion Kevin Streelman, the round was as much or more about making it an experience for McCloskey as anything.

"Reading greens is probably one of the better parts of my game," he said. "The first putt, (McDowell) came over and asked, 'What do you think?' I said a hole right, maybe a little inside a hole. He said, 'I like it. I like it a lot.' It goes in and he says, 'That's my caddy.' I think we finished 3-under (actually 2). The greens were so fast. And they started getting a little tougher. A few times I would say, 'OK, I like this line,' and I would see him go like just a little outside that. I knew.

"When we got off the green at 8, people started clapping and cheering, saying, 'That a boy, Kevin,' like that. I didn't get it, because Kevin Streelman had just hit it into the water. So I was like, 'They're cheering for that?' Then Ian came up on the side of me and said, 'Don't (screw) this up. They're cheering for you.' It must have made its way around that Graeme's caddy had lost his legs, you know. And I'm like, 'Oh my God, this is it.'

"So I get up and (McDowell) hands me his 9 iron. For me, that's about 120 (yards). The hole's playing 126. So it might not be enough. But I didn't want to say you'd better give me another club. This is what he gave me, this is what I'm swinging. I took a few practice swings, everything feels good. Right when I put the club behind the ball, (there's) silence. You didn't hear a bird chirp. That's when it hit me. But I have to swing. As I took the club back, it felt good. Then I realize the ball's in front of my stance. I never even set up (properly). I tried to shift my weight, but I ended up hitting the ground and the club skipped into the ball. It started to draw, which I wanted it to, but then it took a real-quick duck hook into the water. And everyone (groaned). Graeme said, 'Don't worry about it. It's tougher than you think. Don't you wish (the patrons would) just talk sometimes.'

"I couldn't believe I hit it like that," McCloskey continued. "But I don't know anybody else that got to hit it at the Masters. So I could care less. I can't imagine being on the 18th hole and having to keep your nerves calm. No one can understand that kind of pressure. It's insane. And these guys do it all the time."

That night they went to an exclusive sponsor's party. And the next day they walked the real course.

"We saw Graeme a few times, and every time he would talk to us," McCloskey said. "He just wanted to make sure we were having a great time. Once, I had six beer cups in my hand. Three of them were my wife's. But he said, 'Oh, I see you've got that liquid pain medicine.'

"Obviously, it's something that doesn't happen every day. On the plane home I was like, 'It sucks because it's over.' But it was a dream come true. No, it was beyond a dream come true."

And he was able to share it with the person that's become his rock, whom he's known since grade school.

"Golf has been such a huge influence on Kevin's recovery," Bridget said. "It's helped him get on with his life. It's almost like it gave him a purpose. He had to start over, at a young age. I didn't realize (Augusta) was such a big deal until I told everyone at my work. They couldn't believe it. I was so proud of him. It was a lot of walking for me. I can't imagine how he felt.

"He's my hero, because he's come so far. But he doesn't see himself like that. He's just a normal guy trying to do the right thing. If he can inspire one person in a similar situation to realize that their life's not over, then it's all worth it. It's not the end. Life can still be good."

Added McDowell, via email: "It was incredible to spend that day with Kevin, to hear how he's coped with the magnitude of it all, how positive he is . . . When I'm around people who've had their lives affected in that way, to see their mental fortitude, it always makes me put my issues in perspective and realize that golf isn't the be-all and end-all."

Yet for McCloskey, it remains a powerful vehicle. His golf balls have a purple heart on them, thanks to the Philadelphia Section PGA, which has a HOPE (Helping Our Patriots Everywhere) program that provides free golf instruction for military vets. It's a constant reminder.

"I wouldn't be here if not for all the people behind me," said McCloskey. "I am the person I am today for a reason. I was just doing my job (in Afghanistan), like everyone over there. I always say if I were given the chance to have my legs back, I wouldn't take them back. Everybody has down days. I'm no different. And I can't imagine if my brother or son had to go through what I did. I can't imagine what it was like for my family, to see me like that, when I was fighting myself.

"I respect who I am, another guy from the neighborhood. I want to show that golf can be more than just an outlet. Look what it's done for me . . . And I'll always have Augusta."

@mikekerndn