Written by Amber Balbas, IGA Board Member
Everyone has something they could call their “passion”. That thing that people think of when they hear your name. For me, it’s golf. I don’t love many things more than the gift of golf. Whether I am watching it, playing it, or learning about it, golf brings me so much joy. In fact, the word has become so synonymous with my name that people are often shocked to learn that I have not been a golfer my whole life, or even in high school. My passion for it leads people to assume I was raised to love it or have played since I was young.
I was born into softball and about every other team sport my dad could get me in. They taught me to be competitive and tough as nails (physically… still working on the mental part), never give in, keep my chin up, and always be the loudest voice out there.
However, with all of that fierceness, you are also taught all of the cheers, special high-fives or handshakes, and showered with lots of encouragement. Softball is a sport that guarantees that no matter what happens, you have a team that has your back. Always ready to pick you up by the bootstraps when it gets tough. You never felt like it was just “you” because it was bigger than just you.
I loved softball and all that came with it. Not always was I the team MVP, but I was consistently the girl who received the “most encouraging”, “spirit of the game”, or “warrior” recipient. Every year. I was known as “the ultimate hype girl”. Even off of the field, you could find me at every track meet screaming the loudest, at every soccer game waving our school flag, and at all those pep assemblies just being the number one fan of every athlete there.
The camaraderie and rallying were my favorite part of sports, and I absolutely loved it. I so cherished being a competitor, but seeing others do something incredible or achieve a new personal best was what I lived for. Whether I was on the field or on the bench, they always heard my voice and I made sure of it.
In my freshman year playing third base for my college softball team, I endured a terrible shoulder injury that resulted in surgery. I was told I wouldn’t be able to throw from third as I could before, so my scholarship and roster status would likely dissolve. In desperation to at least get my swing back, I tried all sorts of rehab.
Looking to help, a friend on the men’s golf team invited me out to the driving range to try to swing his golf clubs to ease back into it, hopeful that maybe I could at least bat. After a few times out there, continuously attempting to hit this tiny ball straight, I was asked if I wanted to play a round with the team (all boys at the time and their coach). I had no clue what I was doing, but they didn't seem to mind so I was all in.
After 4 hours of trying to get this ball into the hole 18 times without having an aneurysm or throwing anything, while the men’s golf team observed and laughed (a lot I'm sure), I fully expected that to be the last time I visited a golf course.
I’ve learned so many times though that my plan is usually far different than what God has planned. “Amber, we are starting a women’s golf team here at Corban, we would like you to be the first player and if you’re interested and your softball coach gives the ok, we’d also like you to be the team captain.” Those were the words out of Coach Sisler’s mouth after that round and no, it wasn't a joke… I asked.. multiple times.
I slept on it, prayed about it, and before I knew it, I had a set of King Cobra Golf clubs, multiple fancy polos, a bag with my name on it, and soon, four other girls expecting me to lead the way to… well I wasn't really sure where you go with golf, but I just knew that we were going and we would have some big smiles our faces!
Being new to the college golf scene, I didn't know how tournaments operated or even what the proper etiquette was. l did know that walking 4 rounds of 18 holes (push carts or fancy rangefinders weren't allowed yet), mostly in the Oregon rain, definitely meant we needed snacks and lots of smiles (and extra socks).
I still remember my very first tournament. I clapped for each competitor who teed off before me. Then, my name was announced at the first tee box, “Next to the tee, Amber Meeker from St. Helens, Oregon…” I aimed about 80 yards left of the fairway (softball) like always and hit the nastiest slice you've ever seen that landed about 240 yards in the middle of the fairway. I took 127 painful shots after that.
In round one, the three girls I golfed with that round were silent. They didn't clap, high-five or cheer. It was so odd to me. I remember seeing a teammate of mine make an awesome putt on the green next to us, so naturally I yelled, “Great shot, Hailey!” I was thrilled for her, but I could have just murdered someone with my divot fixer judging by the looks I received. Noted: don't yell.
We turned around to play our second round of 18 for the day. I offered snacks to my playing partners, then ate them all myself because apparently eating during a tournament was also taboo. I continued to congratulate my group on great shots, even encouraging them during tough holes. At the end of the round, we shook hands and that was that. They all looked so miserable. I would have loved to have played like they did, but they didn't seem to have enjoyed themselves.
Amber is "Nicole's biggest fan" and it definitely shows!
That next day, the silence was near painful. I continued to offer snacks and all of the words of encouragement I thought might help. I played heaps better, so my spirits were much higher but the vibe in the group was still drab.
It was nearing the end of the last round and one of the girls broke her silence to say something to me along the lines of, “You’re really nice, even when you play bad.” Then she smiled. A real smile. I was elated.
Two weeks later at the next invitational, on the first tee box, our group traded scorecards and introduced ourselves. The same girl was in my group and when she handed me her scorecard, she wished me luck and smiled. In that round of golf, we both played well. We congratulated each other on good shots, we laughed a few times, and by the end of the round, the other girls even joined in some high fives.
Each tournament that first year, the reuniting party in the clubhouse grew more and more. Girls were excited to see and compete with each other, all eager to hear who they were seeded with for the weekend. It was the best.
Ever since I started playing competitive golf, I’ve been told that I need to want to beat the people I play against. I assure you, I am one of the most competitive people you will meet. I want to blow you out of the water no matter the challenge. But I never, ever want you to be miserable. I want to beat you when you are playing your absolute best. I want to see you celebrating an amazing eagle putt. I want to be a part of your victory dance when you shoot a career low. I want you to succeed. Whether it is that shot, that hole, that round. I know how amazing it feels when you experience even those small victories, and I want everyone to have that. We need more of that.
After college, I coached high school softball and golf in Colorado for a number of years. My athletes called me (and still do) “Lady Hype” or “Lady Coach”. Our teams were not always the state champions or all-state athletes, but I continually receive calls and messages from them over the years commenting on the impact of the encouragement they received from me.
Some of my athletes have gone on to coach teams themselves, writing to tell me that they try to be to their teams “the hype girl I was to them.” (Insert teardrops on my keyboard here.) We need more hype girls. More hype bros. We need to be the encouragement for others that we all so desperately need sometimes.
I was specifically asked to write about “What golf means to me”. What golf has become to me these past 16 years, is more than just a game; it is a profound expression of my faith, a place where I encounter God’s creation in its most intricate detail. It is joy. It is a gift God gave me during a time of sorrow and confusion.
Each time out, I try to take in the beauty of the landscape and the rhythm of each swing, being so thankful for the Creator’s handiwork. At times, the game becomes a prayerful meditation, where each moment of calm and challenge reminds me of the grace and patience that God extends to me. The joy I find in golf goes beyond the game itself; it’s about planting a passion and a sense of community in others. But, the true reward comes from seeing others find their own joy in the sport, as it mirrors the excitement and happiness that golf has brought to my own life. It’s a beautiful exchange of enthusiasm and encouragement that I so cherish.
I’ve realized the mental berating we give ourselves as golfers is inevitable at times. I chose to share a short-ish version of my story with you in hopes of giving you a new outlook. I know the terrible things I've said to myself during a round of golf. I have experienced the feeling of absolute failure and anger after a tournament. I’ve nearly left my golf clubs on the side of the road with a “free” sign. I don't want anyone to experience that feeling.
If I can be a small part of helping you smile or gain a little more confidence during a round, then I know I am turning my passion into a purpose. If I’m losing to you, you’ll still hear me. If I didn’t make the cut, I’ll still come to watch you grind. If I am melting down on the 14th green after hitting two “OB” and you make birdie, you bet I’ll have a high-five for you. I want to be a person who helps you feel all the positives because I have been in a place with nothing but negatives and no one deserves to be there. So go out and play a round of golf, whether it be your first or your thousandth, find grace in every stroke, and just smile.