One of the event organizers matched me up with the heart transplant threesome of Pieter Osnabrugge (Netherlands), Mark Binder (USA), and Jorma Seppalainen (Finland). Since Mark and Jorma were in one cart, I was going to ride around with Pieter for the round.

Mr. Osnabrugge was a kind man, quite a bit senior to this 19-year-old reporter. He explained to me that he was from the Netherlands and that he had a quadruple heart bypass in 1991. He also had shoelaces to match his orange team shirt and hat, which I thought was the best.

I joined the group at their fifth hole Mr. Binder ripped a shot right down the middle of the fairway.

“Good, good,” Osnabrugge said.

I added: “Yea, great shot.”

Mark laughed and told me I was his good luck charm. So the day started on a good note, and the threesome wasn’t going to kick me out for ruining the good karma. While waiting for them to tee off from the next hole I had a conversation with Mr. Binder. I found out he was from Youngstown, Ohio, and he had his transplant 13 years ago at the Cleveland Clinic.

“After I got my transplant there was such a transformation,” Binder said. “You know, all the petty stuff doesn’t matter. Not even golf scores.”

Unfortunately, not caring about golf scores doesn’t translate into playing like Tiger Woods. Mr. Binder’s patience was tested many times on the course after slightly errant shots or the time he four-putted on a hole. All the Ohio native could do was groan and yell at the ball whenever a shot wasn’t what he desired.

For the entire day Mark, Pieter, and I kept yelling, “Good shot!” or, “Ok, ok!” or my personal favorite, “Get in the hole!” as a putt was coming close to the hole. If someone hit the ball down the fairway and far, the thumbs up was always a sign of a job well done. Whenever someone came close to making a long putt, but missed, we all gave out an “Ahhhhhhhh!” while throwing up our hands. And if someone’s shot went far to the left or right, the entire group would lean over to see where the ball had landed.

We talked about things other than golf: personal stories, college football, or previous Transplant Games experiences. I had an opportunity to help Pieter manage the GPS on our golf cart, which showed the leader board, the layout of every hole, and even that we were 11 minutes behind the pace.

The round was about to come to an end and Pieter was the first one off the tee. Between the fairway and tee box was a large ravine. Pieter wound back and ripped the ball straight into foliage in the revine. As I stood back and watched the three of them searching for a lost ball, I had an epiphany.

It doesn’t matter what country you’re in, where you're from, whether you’re a veteran or just a first timer, or even whether you know the other members of your threesome or not.