by Bart Potter

Tim Thrasher knows what some people say when the conversation turns to preparing incarcerated individuals for a productive return to society.

He hears, “Aren’t they there to be punished?” or “They certainly aren’t there to play golf.”

Thrasher, superintendent at Cedar Creek Corrections Center, a minimum-security facility in rural Thurston County, Wash., hears the noise, but doesn’t much engage in the conversation.

He does listens to his heart, and it tells him that all the things he appreciates about golf in his own life can be just as good for the men at Cedar Creek who are in his charge. Cedar Creek is the final step in a long process for these men, who are nearing the end of their sentences.

Thrasher, 51, really loves golf. He’s been playing since he was 13, learning at Fort Lewis Golf Course (now Eagles Pride) at Joint Base Lewis-McChord. He’s been the superintendent at Cedar Creek for three years, and with the Corrections Department for 30 years.

“I know what golf does for me mentally, physically, even spiritually,” he says.

The rules of golf are the rules of life. That’s lesson No. 1 in the golf program he launched two years ago for Cedar Creek inmates. “And we talk about that a lot,” Thrasher says. “You have to depend on yourself, instead of wanting others to do it for you. You have to do the right thing, even when people aren’t looking,”

His research showed him his program might be the only one of its kind in the country.

Golf was a new game and concept for most, though not all, of the dozen or so men in the program who now join Thrasher every Wednesday evening on the Cedar Creek baseball field to work on golf fundamentals. The life fundamentals – the ethics, the etiquette, the respect for other people – come along for the ride.

“It’s more than just going out and hitting balls for a couple hours on a Wednesday night,” Thrasher says.

The men work on chipping from 15 to 30 to 40 yards out from a portable teebox to a small three-flag green with a sand bunker behind. They keep track of the number of times they chip onto the green. There are prizes (usually hygiene items) to be had.

They work on putting. They swing away with longer clubs into a net. Encouragement from their peers outpaces the trash talk, though maybe not by much.

John is the only lefthander in the program. In the early days, when the supply of equipment (all donated) was building slowly, there were no lefty clubs. So he hit righty.

On this day, using a left-handed 56-degree wedge, three of John’s 10 shots from 30 yards dropped onto the green. He’s done better, he’s done worse.

“For most of us, this is our first run at it,” he said. “That’s what we learned – it’s the short game where the game is won. Being able to chip it from a nice distance gave me a whole new respect for the game.”

And he learned it from the superintendent. “You couldn’t have scripted that. That’s all the way out of the box.”

Cedar Creek residents have to earn their way into the program, and there’s a waiting list. Once in, a dirty urinalysis will get them kicked out.

“I’ve never had to remove anyone,” Thrasher says.

The 51-year-old John has a year left on a sentence that will have lasted one month short of 30 years when all is said and served. He’s used the time inside the walls, he says, “to study a lot of things, to open myself to a bunch of different understandings.” His new golf exploration is another step on the journey.

What stands out for him is the integrity in the game.

“It’s a gentleman’s game,” he says. “You’re trusted to hold your own score and be honest with it. That struck me as a good standup thing.”

For 29-year-old Nikolas, the day he came off the wait list and joined the group was a special Thursday session in October when the Cedar Creek golfers had better weather. When he stood on the tee box to take aim at the green, it was the first time in his life he’d held a golf club.

He’ll have the final three years of his sentence to polish his game. But that day, he says, it felt awkward and very new.

“I’m going to work on everything,” he said. “I’m very big on learning new things.”

A highlight moment for Thrasher and his guys was a recent Wednesday when he distributed real scorecards for a real golf course and they all played a simulated round, hole by hole. They learned, amid much laughter, that keeping a scorecard was more than writing down a score and adding them up at the end. They learned about bogeys and birdies and pars, and what they all mean. They were able to “see” what spots to aim for and what hazards to miss.

Thrasher hopes the program can work (slowly) toward a day when the Cedar Creek golfers play a real round of golf. He might have some naysayers to win over first.

“We really are in the business of trying to help these guys make better decisions and do better when they get out,” he says.

When that day comes, Superintendent Thrasher will book them a tee time – with him.

“There’s not one of these guys I wouldn’t want to play golf with.”

(Editor’s note: only first names of inmates were included in this article.)

Bart Potter has taught journalism in higher education, and won awards for sports writing and news reporting as a daily journalist. He manages the website, GreyGoateeGolf.com.