Paired Up with Jim Hartsell: Golf’s Curator

“In Scotland, they have a different outlook than we do. They’re more relaxed, and it’s just a different lifestyle. Golf is more of a way of life there. That dinner was one of the best nights of my life. We talked about golf, politics, art—everything. Stuff we don’t seem to do as much here, which is disappointing.”

What do you think of when you hear the word curator?

I think of the tour guides I’ve had at museums or historic buildings, particularly the guide I had at the Guinness factory back in 2011. My family and I knew that the tour ended at the top of the building in The Gravity Bar, a place with glass walls where you could enjoy a Guinness with amazing views of Dublin. Our guide, however, wasn’t going to let us reach the top until she told us every last detail about Guinness.

What I remember most about this—besides being a 21-year-old desperate to get upstairs for a beer—was how excited she was about each stop on the tour. She told us the details of the lease on the property with more excitement than your friend would have telling their engagement story.

I left this tour feeling more excited about Guinness than I knew I was capable of, all thanks to the enthusiastic curator that guided us through the building. These are the kind of people that are energizing to be around—someone who really cares about something.

Jim Hartsell belongs in this category too, as I would find out when we were Paired Up on a rainy day at Sweetens Cove.

In Need of a Refuel

As mentioned in my previous post, I had spent most of my spring chasing numbers, only worrying about posting good scores leading up to my annual buddies trip. This left me feeling empty, forgetting what I love most about playing golf: the people. The people are why I started this project, and a show in Knoxville reminded me of that, but I still needed to take care of one more issue, which was getting my golf fuel tank off E and back to full.

If there’s one place I always leave feeling better about golf than when I arrived, it’s Sweetens Cove Golf Club in South Pittsburg, TN. Trips to Sweetens have introduced me to so many new golf friends, whether it be the architect Rob Collins, Nash Pater the GM, or Trey Moon, a long-time member and new friend I have played a few times with now. So I sent out an all-call on social media that I was headed to Sweetens the next day—tagging Nash and Trey to apply some positive peer pressure—and Jim Hartsell responded that he’d be there with his son, Jake.

I had only briefly met Jim one time previously at Sweetens Cove, but I knew he’s someone I wanted to play with. We have followed each other on social media for a bit, but wanting to learn more about Jim, I hopped in the car on a Sunday morning and made the hour-and-a-half drive from Nashville to South Pittsburg wondering if a round with Jim could cure my golf blues.

Everything Has a Meaning

“There’s Jimbo. He’s probably giving the shop a few more dollars,” Trey told me as we stood on the first tee box, looking back towards the shed. Jim approached us moments later carrying a yellow head cover with the Sweetens road sign logo on it in a repeating pattern.

“Nash got me with the Open Championship yellow,” Jim said. I should’ve known that if a curator had a yellow head cover then it couldn’t be “yellow” for no reason, it was “Open Championship yellow.” In fact, everything about his entire presentation had a meaning.

Jim wore a salmon colored Sweetens Cove golf shirt with a matching logo on his hat, both pointing to his love and admiration for his home course. His bag is a MacKenzie waxed canvas walker, custom made for him from an event held at Sweetens Cove last fall. Peek inside his bag and you’ll find three head covers—the before mentioned Open Championship yellow one, a custom-made one from The Ringer (same event from his bag), and a Scottish plaid one—and if you look hard enough you’ll even see “BAMA” stamped on his sand wedge to honor his Crimson Tide. He has put thought into every square inch of his bag, even down to his No Laying Up towels, tees, and golf balls that NLU sent him after they struck up a friendship through The Ringer event. Every piece had a meaning.

Would you expect any less attention to detail from a curator at your favorite art exhibit?

Jim really cares about golf, and that is apparent from the moment you meet him.

With a large group teeing off of number one, Trey, Jim, Jake, and I walked over to number 7 to start there instead—because a good curator can start the tour in any section of the museum without missing a beat. On the walk over I wondered who Jim was and how he cultivated his love for the game.

Fore Please, Jim Hartsell Now Driving

Originally from Birmingham, Jim’s family moved when he was in high school to Hartselle, Alabama, a town of about 15,000 people near Huntsville, Alabama. The town was named for his family and was originally called Hartsell Station in the 1880s. “When the first post office was built, they added an ‘e’ for some reason, and that spelling was adopted by a lot of people. It was originally named after George Hartsell in 1870 when the train station was built, and he ran the first train station, as I understand,” he told me.

Much of Jim’s childhood was spent on the golf course, eventually leading him to play for Hartselle High School’s golf team, where his dream of winning a State title was squashed during his senior season in 1985. “We won sectionals to qualify for State. One of our guys inadvertently signed an incorrect card and we had to count an 87 instead of his 78. We dropped to third place, and the top two teams went to State,” Jim said. “Ironically, exactly 30 years later my youngest son (of three) was on the first Hartselle High boys golf team to with the State Championship.”

Always having a love for art and geometry, Jim studied architecture at Mississippi State, and has worked for a firm in Birmingham since, making the commute daily from Hartselle. “The architecture school is a nightmare, they try to run you off the first year, but I stuck with it and I’ve been doing it for 25 years now.”

Does his eye for design translate to golf?

“I do look at places differently. You look at some places where they have the clubhouse in the perfect spot, like Shinnecock, it really adds to the course.” What’s the perfect spot? “Up on the hill where you can see almost the entire golf course. The best ones in Scotland are where you can sit at the bar or have a sandwich and you can basically see everything.”

Along with architecture, Jim’s other creative ventures include writing, photography, and he does most of the cooking for his family at home, often on his Big Green Egg. Jim’s eye for photography comes from his architecture background, and a quick scroll through his social media will reveal hundreds of breathtaking photos, especially from Sweetens Cove. His love for writing was also born from the architecture realm.

“I’ve always done a lot of the writing for our office, and I’ve always enjoyed it,” he said. “I decided to start a blog a year and a half ago, and I’ve met some people through that who have read some of the stuff. It’s fun, and it’s something I really enjoy.”

Jim is not just a curator, but a creator as well.

On his blog you’ll see that his creations come from a place of love for curating, as a lot of Jim’s writing takes you back in time, acting as a tour guide to golf’s past. The topics of his most recent posts include the 1986 Masters, a lost links course on the coast of Alabama, the Quarto Bookshop in St. Andrews, and his favorite holes from a trip to Scotland.

In fact, most golf conversations with Jim end with him referencing Scotland, the Home of Golf.

Scotland State of Mind

If there’s one place on Earth that feels like a living and breathing golf museum, it’s Scotland. Jim and his son, Jake, recently got back from a trip to Scotland, which was Jim’s fifth trip and Jake’s first. Jim’s previous four trips were with his dad, but this time Jim decided to pass the Scotland fascination down to the next generation of Hartsells. On this trip they didn’t fight for tee times at the most famous Open Championship venues, but like a crafty curator, they sought out courses off the beaten path, and a ton of golf ensued.

“How many holes did you play?” I asked, thinking it might be a simple answer.

“I couldn’t even guess, but my fitness tracker said we walked 102 miles while playing,” he said.

102! Just about four marathons worth of golf.

When you love golf this much, you attract other golf nuts (said affectionately). Through posting his itinerary on social media, Jim was able to meet some new playing partners turned new friends, from across the pond.

“We played with a guy named Adam Duncan in a one-day tournament called an Open competition. That was a hard course and he was a member, so we would’ve been lost without him.

Then we played at Machrihanish Dunes with Hugh Sinclair—he has been a member there his whole life, and he’s a character. Jake and I played Hugh and his buddy Hamish in a match. We won the last two holes to tie.

We met another person from social media that goes by Links Robbie, and he’s the best guy. He works for the Scottish National Trust and goes around to all of these castle ruins and takes care of them.”

“What a job,” Jake added as we stood on the fourth tee.

“He puts these pictures on Instagram that are incredible. We played Dunaverty Golf Club with him and had a blast.”

The links-style golf in Scotland has always held a special place in Jim’s heart. “When I was a kid I was fascinated with the British Open and remember watching it with my dad when it would come on tape delayed back then at like 3 P.M., but you didn’t know who won because there was no internet back then.”

While loving golf history, Jim isn’t stuck in the past, but he makes sure we don’t forget it, because he knows that the fix for a lot of golf’s problems could be found in the rearview mirror.

Problems in Golf

As much as Jim’s love of golf reverberates around him, there’s a certain undercurrent of frustration in the way he talks about modern American golf. Feeling this frustration, I asked him what was most broken in golf.

“The private aspect of American golf… I cannot stand,” he said. “I’ve been invited to a lot of these places, and if someone invited me to National Golf Links tomorrow I’d take off work and go. But the fact that these places don’t let visitors play even one or two days a week, especially when there are no members there during the middle of the week. Donate the money to charity or something. When I go to Scotland and see how a normal person can play anywhere—as long as you call or maybe write them a letter—it’s great. These places in America could charge whatever they wanted on a Tuesday and people would pay it—just make them somewhat accessible. Think about how much it would do for golf if Chicago Golf Club or Cypress Point let non-members play on occasion.”

The modern American system is even more frustrating to Jim because he has seen first hand how well the UK model works.

“That’s why Scotland has it right,” he continued. “They have these community courses that the towns are centered around, and it doesn’t cost that much and they play fast. Plus, it’s all about the community aspect. In fact, Hugh Sinclair (pairing in Scotland) invited us over to eat at his house the night we played together.”

Are you more likely to get invited over for dinner by a random pairing in America or Scotland?

“Scotland, 100%. 500%,” he said emphatically. “They have a different outlook than we do. They’re more relaxed, and it’s just a different lifestyle. Golf is more of a way of life there. That dinner was one of the best nights of my life. We talked about golf, politics, art—everything. Stuff we don’t seem to do as much here, which is disappointing.”

He’s right. If someone invited me over for dinner after golf at my local muni my first thought would be that this is how a Dateline episode starts, and I’d hear Keith Morrison’s voice saying, “What started as an innocent round of golf ended in this man’s life getting ‘sliced’ out of bounds.”

In 2016, Jim found the stateside-antidote to his frustrations.

Enter Sweetens Cove

When Jim first stumbled upon Sweetens Cove, he saw minimalist golf, classic architecture, and a community feel with no over-priced marketing bullshit attached—like a little slice of Scotland tucked into the foothills of Appalachia—causing him to join as a member almost immediately.

Saying that Jim loves Sweetens Cove would be a gross understatement. When I asked him to ballpark how many rounds he has played there, he laughed and said it’s impossible. He makes the hour and a half drive there every weekend and plays an average of 36 holes per visit—sometimes more.

As we stood on the fifth hole—a fan favorite—I jokingly explained the hole to Trey as if it were his first time.

“This is Jim’s least favorite hole,” Trey said, “Just ask him.”

I turned and said to Jim, “You hate this hole, huh?”

“Can’t stand it, man,” he said with a grin. “I only commissioned an artist to do a painting of it.”

“He has it hanging right above his bed so that when he’s laying in bed at night he’s looking right up at it,” Trey said. “Some people have mirrors up there, but nope, Jim has #5 up there.” I’m only sort of sure he was joking… sort of.

However, the love between Jim and Sweetens is mutual.

On your next trip to Sweetens, take a look behind the third tee box and you’ll find the Jim Hartsell bench, newly constructed by the grounds crew to honor Jim. This was his first round seeing it, so as we finished number two he made his way over to take the inaugural seat. He asked for a picture on it with Trey, because a good curator finds more joy in sharing the experience.

The sharing, in fact, doesn’t stop there. Using a perfect combination of his curating and creating, Jim is currently writing a book about Sweetens Cove, and the story is safe in this curator’s hands.

“I’m working on a book about Sweetens that I’m really excited about. It’s going to be about how this place got started and the struggles Rob went through, all the way through to now having investors out here,” he said. Investors like Peyton Manning and Andy Roddick, also known as my childhood heros.

“What’s the title?” I asked.

“The Secret Home of Golf.”

“I’ve seen people call Sweetens that,” I said, “Who started it?”

“Me.”

Jim has found a place that feels like home, that feels right, that feels like the courses his younger self dreamed of while watching tape-delayed British Opens.

A Full Tank

Spending time with a curator always leaves me feeling inspired and energized because they care so much about their museum or exhibit. As golf’s curator, Jim’s museums are located all over the world, and after spending the morning with him at one of his favorites, I left feeling incredibly moved. Seeing Jim’s love and care for golf reminded me of how much I loved the game too, and without realizing it, my golf fuel tank was back on full. Spending time around people who absolutely love something will do that to you.

In fact, I even played nine more holes back in Nashville that evening.

Golf is better for having people like Jim carrying the banner and caring for it’s history.

If you cross paths with Jim Hartsell at Sweetens Cove, you’ll be better for it, too.