Mac Barnhardt, who has spent nearly two decades in the sports management business, knew Boo Weekley had transcended golf when they were walking together and fans started shouting, “Boo, Boo, Boo!”
There wasn’t a golf course in sight.
They were in the garage at Lowe’s Motor Speedway last year and there were moments when it seemed as if Dale Earnhardt Jr. (Weekley’s favorite driver, by the way) was walking by, not a professional golfer who rode an imaginary pony off the first tee on Sunday of the Ryder Cup matches last fall.
“The closest thing I can remember to this is when John Daly won the PGA Championship (in 1991),” Barnhardt, Weekley’s business manager, said. “This has gone to rock-star status.”
If there is a general mold into which most professional golfers can be fit – thin, reserved and understated – Weekley, 35, lives outside the mold.
A native of the Florida panhandle with thinning hair and a gently rounded belly, Weekley looks more like the people watching him from outside the gallery ropes than like his contemporaries.
He possesses a charm as genuine as a country morning. He is a collection of stories and observations, all shared with a southern drawl and a twinkle in his eye.
“Every time he says something, it’s just a little bit different than everybody else, so you sit there and try to soak it in, because he’s like that 24-7,” said Anthony Kim, one of Weekley’s many friends on tour.
“He’s dancing in the locker room and there’s no music. He’s fun to be around.”
Sitting in the Quail Hollow locker room this week, sipping a beer after a day of practice, Weekley leaned back against one of the tall wooden lockers and reflected on all that has happened in his life since he won his first PGA Tour event in 2007 at the Verizon Heritage on Hilton Head Island, S.C.
He has endorsement deals with Bass Pro Shops and MasterCard, in addition to golf equipment deals. Weekley also has his own line of clothing, much of it featuring camouflage. There are camo caps with ‘Boo’ written on the front and golf shirts with camo trim.
“I ain’t going to say everything I touch turns to gold or camouflage. The people that really know me know I’ve got to work hard to keep what I’ve got. Nothing comes easy to me. It never has in life. I’ve had to work at it,” Weekley said
“I’m from a working-class family and I’ve went out and worked myself. I know what it’s like to have a 9-to-5 job. I know what it’s like to get up in the morning and just go … whether I hated it or loved it, I just had to do it. It was part of my life.
“Now in golf, I’ve been fortunate enough to have reached a level that I can take two days off and not play golf, just enjoy what I’m doing.”
It’s a far cry from his days working in a chemical plant being lowered into drums to scrub them out.
Weekley would like to play better – and perhaps a little less – golf than he has recently. This is his 11th tournament week in the past 12, a stretch like those he played when he was chasing the game on mini-tours around Florida.
He has had consecutive top-15 finishes in his past two starts, but hasn’t had the breakout week this season. Even at Hilton Head, where he was two-time defending champion, he couldn’t summon his game when he needed it.
Still, fans and players gravitate to Weekley. When he approached the final green at Hilton Head two weeks ago, his two-year reign as champion ending, Weekley acknowledged the cheers by tipping his cap and bowing to the crowd.
He has often said his golf career is a means to an end. When he reaches a certain financial number, Weekley said he will leave the tour and spend his days fishing, hunting and hanging out at home in tiny Jay, Fla.
It won’t happen soon.
“Back at the house, people are losing golf courses,” Weekley said. “My friends are losing their jobs at the plant where I used to work. It’s crazy. … That number has gone away right now.”
The dream, though, is alive and well.
When the subject turns to hunting, Weekley’s posture changes. He goes from leaning on a locker to sitting forward on a bench, excited by the subject.
“I’m like a little kid at Christmas,” he said. “When the opening day of gun season comes or bow season comes in, I can’t sleep. I’ll go to bed and have all my hunting stuff laid out …”
Weekley compares his feelings to those of a school kid who waits all week for Saturday to play golf all day.
And here’s where his world view come into focus.
“When you get there, it’s you and the wilderness,” Weekley said. “You ain’t going to hear a car honking, you ain’t going to hear nothing. You just sit against a tree and close your eyes and listen to what’s really there.
“You’ll hear a bird chirping. Well, what kind of bird is that? It’s a mockingbird.
“Then all of a sudden you hear another sound. That’s a crow. All of a sudden you look up and (there’s) a weird bird sound right there. You look over there and it’s a hummingbird at some honeysuckle.
“Then you hear a squirrel bouncing through the woods …”
That’s Boo’s world.
