That phrase is used a lot when someone passes. Whether it is someone public or someone private and it is a cliche that is overused to pay respects to the dearly departed.
In this case, however, it is spot on. Jack Huiskamp was like a father to me in the absence of a relationship with my real father.
I knew him as a great golfer, a great thinker and a great friend. He was stubborn, but thoughtful. He had a more common sense approach to life and the World than anyone I ever met.
He was often at odds with my intangible approach to things, but always marveled and gave me credit when I pulled a rabbit out of a hat.
We laughed so many times over debates on so many different subjects I couldn’t begin to list them all. We would get together almost every year for the NFL draft and debate talent level and draft picks. We laughed at all the terrible picks, so called professionals made, while we saw his list of prospects out perform them every year.
We argued over Tiger’s struggles and my own. He was under the opinion that my lunatic tendencies on the course affected my swing, while I have been trying to convince him for 10 years that the opposite was true.
I am sorry he is not going to be around to see me prove him wrong. He would have loved it more than anything as he was my biggest fan and supporter.
My condolences to his daughters, mother, grandchildren and other friends who loved him as much I did.
I am going to miss you Jack, but at least you won’t have to watch my RJ Soward predictions every year during the NFL draft and experience me turn 65’s into 73’s at Desert Mountain anymore.