The Bench Beside the 7th Tee

There’s a bench just off the 7th tee box here at Willow Dunes. Most people don’t notice it.

It’s shaded by a lone white pine, angled just so you can see the fairway without looking like you're staring. Nothing fancy—teak, I think. Club crest engraved into the backrest. Probably cost more than my first car.

But that bench?
That bench has seen more than most people think.

I sat there last Tuesday. Not for long—just a minute.

I wasn’t waiting on the group ahead or catching my breath. I just sat. Let the sun warm my shoulders. Watched a couple of young guys tee off ahead of us, both swinging like they had something to prove.

And as I sat there, I started thinking about all the people I’ve seen on that tee over the years.

I remember the first time I played this hole with my dad—he striped a 3-wood and muttered, “Even a blind squirrel…” I remember a friend who used to bring his son out here every July. That kid grew up out here. Played barefoot half the time. I haven’t seen them in a few years now.

I remember a time I sat there after learning some news I wasn’t ready for. The bench didn’t judge. It just held me for a while.

And I’ve seen others do the same. Not in any dramatic way. Just… pause. A moment of reflection between the shots.

That’s what makes golf different.

It gives you space. Space to remember. To breathe. To grieve, sometimes. To laugh without meaning to.

That bench has been witness to quiet proposals, phone calls with bad news, reunions between old friends, and golfers quietly playing in memory of someone they used to walk these fairways with.

Nobody writes that into the club brochure. But it’s part of the story.

So no, it’s not just a bench.

It’s a place where life leaks into the game a little.

And next time you walk past it, maybe you’ll stop for just a second. Take a breath. Look around. Remember something—or someone—that mattered.

Then tee it up. And carry on.

Because that’s what this game—and life—asks of us.
Pause. Reflect. Then keep playing.



— Eddie