Remembering Bill Crain
Bill Crain was many things to me – coach, mentor, confidant, golf buddy – but more than that, he was a trustworthy friend with a passion for always being better - mainly a better person, but also in a competitive sense, a better golfer. He and I played as a twosome many times, but the agenda switched continually from shot-making to life’s more significant issues – how to be a good father, how to be and effective Christian, how to come to terms with our weaknesses and failures, which books we were reading and so on. These times of relaxed sharing had very few boundaries and could delve into deep waters.
Bill was an unusual kind of leader. He was not the kind of charismatic personality that demanded attention, but he applied what he had learned in very successful athletics endeavors. The led by example with very few words and an occasional well-placed and often clever comment. His direct manner combined with insightful discernment made him very effective in his ministry to the inmates at the local prison.
As I was learning golf and Bill was patiently playing alongside, I would make bad shot and would want to analyze, “What did I do wrong on that? Was my alignment off?...”, and his reply was often the same, “Bad shot.”, meaning that next time, the time that has some possibilities, I must try to hit a good one. I think I do recall direct advice that he offered – all of them in the many rounds we played. We shared church leadership during one period and as I chaired meetings, Bill would get weary with too much talk and not enough action saying, “Moving right along…”. And then there were the cryptic emails with only a subject line “Golf Friday?”.
Bill and I got together for golf about two weeks before his death. I was having a great day and Bill was not. After 12 holes, I had made 4 birdies and had Bill down by 5 strokes. He always kept the score, so I was oblivious that today might be that great day in which I finally beat my mentor. Back at the clubhouse, he added up the score, grinned and said, “Not today.”. Bill always finished well.
Bill Crain was many things to me – coach, mentor, confidant, golf buddy – but more than that, he was a trustworthy friend with a passion for always being better - mainly a better person, but also in a competitive sense, a better golfer. He and I played as a twosome many times, but the agenda switched continually from shot-making to life’s more significant issues – how to be a good father, how to be and effective Christian, how to come to terms with our weaknesses and failures, which books we were reading and so on. These times of relaxed sharing had very few boundaries and could delve into deep waters.
Bill was an unusual kind of leader. He was not the kind of charismatic personality that demanded attention, but he applied what he had learned in very successful athletics endeavors. The led by example with very few words and an occasional well-placed and often clever comment. His direct manner combined with insightful discernment made him very effective in his ministry to the inmates at the local prison.
As I was learning golf and Bill was patiently playing alongside, I would make bad shot and would want to analyze, “What did I do wrong on that? Was my alignment off?...”, and his reply was often the same, “Bad shot.”, meaning that next time, the time that has some possibilities, I must try to hit a good one. I think I do recall direct advice that he offered – all of them in the many rounds we played. We shared church leadership during one period and as I chaired meetings, Bill would get weary with too much talk and not enough action saying, “Moving right along…”. And then there were the cryptic emails with only a subject line “Golf Friday?”.
Bill and I got together for golf about two weeks before his death. I was having a great day and Bill was not. After 12 holes, I had made 4 birdies and had Bill down by 5 strokes. He always kept the score, so I was oblivious that today might be that great day in which I finally beat my mentor. Back at the clubhouse, he added up the score, grinned and said, “Not today.”. Bill always finished well.
In a day when many are looking for those who are “authentic” in their expression of a life of faith, there are few examples. Bill provided one.
Bob Kehl
