Grayson Murray, 1993-2024

C.W.: Suicide references 

Normally a week like this, what with the PGA Championship the week before, would be pretty quiet. Many bigwigs take off a week or two before the next high-profile event or otherwise opting to make another start. However, this week's quiet was broken by nothing short of a tragedy--and I don't mean my Wolves blowing Game 2 of the conference finals against the Mavs.

May he rest in peace, and may his memory be a blessing.

On Friday, Grayson Murray WD from the Colonial National Invitation, known for sponsorship reasons as the Charles Schwab Challenge, after three consecutive bogeys. Despite these those struggles, Murray could still have made the weekend, it turned out, by going -1 the last two holes. Instead, he said he was sick and quit. But nothing could have prepared anybody--not his fellow-players, not the fans in the stands, not the T.V. audiences around the world, not the PGA Tour itself and definitely not his family and fiancée--for what was to befall them. The next morning, Murray was found dead, and the day after, his parents confirmed he had committed suicide.

The news hit like a thousand sledgehammers falling randomly from the sky. The percussion track in the usual theme for CBS' coverage was suppressed at the weekend as soon as they came on the air to broadcast the action Saturday out of reverence for Murray. This was just four and a half months after he had won the Sony Open in Hawai'i--his second win on the Tour and first full-point victory. Just a month and a half after his Masters debut, where he made the cut. Just a week or so after making the PGA Championship cut and less than that after securing an exemption to the U.S. Open. And just weeks before he was to marry the love of his life.

I mentioned on a community post on my YouTube channel, which is a companion to this blog, that Grayson Murray suffered depression; and as one with depression myself, I have sought to live life as I am able. There are good days and bad days with the condition, so I could relate to Grayson's struggles in a way, even though I never knew the guy on any personal level.

Back at Colonial National came the outpouring of tears. Valspar Championship winner Peter Malnati, in particular, sobbed during his interview with Amanda Balionis of CBS. Webb Simpson, who knew Grayson from his junior days in North Carolina and early university days at Wake Forest, was also moved to emotion greatly. Jay Monahan personally flew into DFW to be with the players. Meanwhile, on the Korn Ferry Tour, Harry Higgs--himself trying to get back to the PGA Tour, in which endeavour he should succeed--dedicated his two-hole playoff win to Grayson's memory. By the time Davis Riley polished off a fairly high-profile field including top-ranked Scottie Scheffler, no prize money, no FedEx Cup points, no silly little trophy (or not-so-little trophy) or tartan jacket or 1975 Schwab roadster could take away the meaning of this tragedy. Sports success comes and goes, but the loss of a human life is forever.

In conclusion, I commend Grayson on his honesty in terms of his depression and alcoholism. In a sport that trolls its practitioners for length of days like none other, his vulnerability is to be remembered and honoured. Perhaps this quality, above all his ability as a golfer, is why they dared play on at the Schwab Challenge. It has also led me to coin a Latin motto for the Devilish Rake: Facere pro qui non possunt. To do for those who can't. That, I feel, will be Grayson's lasting legacy, long after the players, organizers and broadcasters move on, long after Grayson's parents bury him, long after his premaritally widowed fiancée (hopefully) finds someone new to love. Remember Grayson Murray.

Edward the Scop