The Scrambler, Mr. Kevin Lynch, is an oversized fan of the bro hug. As a jaunty Irishman with a smile and a heart to match the legend, Kevin never met an embrace he didn’t like. He convinces the terminally-American (those who fear intimacy) to momentarily shed their trepidation, open their arms and exchange multiple pats on the back. Kevin has been known to end golf gatherings with a CTBH (call to bro hug); it’s his way of saying “we’ll meet again.” With that in mind, I’d like to tell you a bit about a young man named Christopher Whitcomb, who wrote for the majority of this site’s existence under the handle The Mouth That Roars.

Chris came to us while a student at St. Bonaventure. He arrived just in time, as the original Mouth That Roars (who shall remain anonymous, as he has recently returned to golf in WNY and deserves a chance to not catch grief for abandoning us) simply stopped writing. Chris had loved the game since he worked at Elkdale Country Club in Salamanca, learning the biz under the tutelage of longtime pro Jack Widger. Chris would initially send brief pieces, never wanting to over-extend himself nor his readers. He made solid points in every single article he wrote.

Chris went on to work as a swamper at two PGA championships (Medinah and Baltusrol.) That meant that he did every clean and dirty task needed, as well as arrive on site a month before the tournament, to live and breathe the set-up. If that doesn’t prepare your mouth to roar, I don’t know what could.

There was another point in Chris’ professional career when we thought we might lose him. He had an interview with Links Magazine and contemplated a move to South Carolina. Fortunately for BuffaloGolfer.Com, Links seems to have a minimum age requirement of 55 for hiring, so Chris was about 30 years to early.

This mouth that roars is a fit mouth. Chris has always been a fitness aficionado, but he prefers to do it without weights, relying on body weight, the lungs and the core. There’s something extraordinarily refreshing and traditional about that approach. Chris always had the potential to become a good golfer. He was a decent stick in high school, then lost his swing somewhere along the way. And yet, when he took a series of lessons with Tonawanda’s John Lindner, he started to hit the ball like a single-digit handicapper.

The reason I’m writing this piece is completely connected to the recent call for writers that we issued in our email newsletter. The Mouth That Roars has been hushed. A career opportunity has taken up the hours he used to dedicate to golf writing. Make no mistake~Chris was the heart and soul of BuffaloGolfer.Com. While I do a fair amount of the back end site work, Chris wrote and wrote and wrote. He proposed new ideas for all the writers and never backed away from a topic.

We can’t replace a guy like Chris, just like we couldn’t replace the Travelin’ Duff (John Daken) when he took leave of BuffaloGolfer.Com. What we can do is celebrate the immense contributions that he/they made to the site and look to other writers to continue the spirit of BuffaloGolfer.Com.

The Green Day song whose title I ripped off for this piece is one of those melancholy pieces that defines transitional moments like this one for me. Chris, consider this my bro hug. Thank you for everything…

Summer has come and passed
The innocent can never last
Wake me up when September ends

Like my father’s come to pass
Seven years has gone so fast
Wake me up when September ends

Here comes the rain again
Falling from the stars
Drenched in my pain again
Becoming who we are

As my memory rests
But never forgets what I lost
Wake me up when September ends

Summer has come and passed
The innocent can never last
Wake me up when September ends

Ring out the bells again
Like we did when spring began
Wake me up when September ends

Here comes the rain again
Falling from the stars
Drenched in my pain again
Becoming who we are

As my memory rests
But never forgets what I lost
Wake me up when September ends

Summer has come and passed
The innocent can never last
Wake me up when September ends

Like my father’s come to pass
Twenty years has gone so fast
Wake me up when September ends

Wake me up when September ends
Wake me up when September ends

Wake me up when September ends by Green Day