Playing Through

Brenden Redfern (Photo by John Anderson)

I should have known that I wouldn't be seeing any fist pu mps. I mean, his favorite professional golfer is Retief Goosen. The famously phlegmatic South African can win the U.S. Open, and the photographers are lucky to capture a wry smile in celebration.

That's not quite the case with Brenden Redfern. The Westlake High School freshman is a little fuzzy on what it was like when, at 14, he became the youngest player ever to win the Firecracker Open, out at Lions Municipal Golf Course last summer (Ben Crenshaw won the event at 17), but he thinks there might have been a fist pump or two along the way. Like after he drained a 30-foot putt on the last hole to get into a playoff: "I was shaking, kind of in a daze," he said. "It was pretty historical."

But that's about all you'll get out of Brenden. What makes him an extraordinary golfer is also what makes him an undemonstrative interview. There's nothing hectic or harried about the kid. On and off the course, he's as cool as they come, taking his abundant talent as a given.

"I know a lot of guys can hit the ball as good as I can," says Brenden, who will be playing this weekend at the Texas Junior Golf Tour Holiday Classic, at the Barton Creek Resort & Spa. "But what separates great golfers from really good golfers is the mental game – the ability to leave bad shots behind, to stay in the present. I've never really had to work at that aspect of the game. It just kind of comes naturally to me."

I should say so. When Brenden was 9, he broke par on a regulation course. At 11, he was playing from the back tees. At 12, he shot a 63 at the Barton Creek Fazio Foothills course, one more than the course record in a round that included 10 birdies. He could count them up, but off the top of his head, he's not sure how many tournaments he's won.

Of course, the Hills are full of can't-miss juniors. At any course you go to, public or private, there are always a handful of teenage prodigies putting the men to shame. But then something mysterious happens. One minute they're pounding the ball a mile, destined for the PGA Tour; the next they're gone, never really to be heard from again. Twenty years later, they're still playing and still frighteningly good. But instead of tipping his hat to the gallery at Augusta, that can't-miss junior is now on his cell phone between holes, talking business to some guy named Bobby.

I don't think Brenden is going to be that guy. To look at him, you don't see an awesome physical specimen (Tiger Woods aside, in golf you never do), but you do feel a definite difference. It's a feeling I had the first time I saw Mia Hamm play soccer or Roger Federer play tennis – that they're operating on a different frequency than the rest of us.

Tune in to it, and Brenden's promise starts to come through loud and clear.