“Now… our greatest ideas are often formulated in this kitchen, or on that porch, or in that boathouse, in the early hours of the morning.”

Gal [probably said something like this one time]

Fresh from a demanding day’s work, Mike Brown phoned his wife, Meg, to inform her of his journey to Lake Ariel. She promptly requested that he pick up their boys at Red Maples on his way. During the thirty-minute drive from South Scranton to South Canaan, Mike conceived the concept of an annual golf tournament at the course that served as a de facto day camp for his sons.

Later that evening, fueled by more than a dozen Michelob Ultras, Mike enthusiastically shared his plans with anyone willing to listen:

• A captain-and-crew tournament to be held at Red Maples.
• 18 holes
• First or second weekend in August.
• First hole, alternate-shot playoff for the top four teams.

Around Mere’s kitchen table, the name and inaugural Board of Directors for the tournament took shape, with roles and responsibilities evenly distributed:

The Name: The McDonough Open

Gal, the clearest of mind at this early hour, saw an opportunity to pay homage to the family’s matriarch and his grandmother, Anna “Mamadonough” McDonough. By naming it “The McDonough Open”, all of Mamadonough’s descendants received an open invitation to play.

The Board of Directors

• Mike Brown, Sr.:
  • Tournament director handling team assembly, hole assignments, rules direction, and overall hosting.
• Tom “Gal” Gallagher:
  • Responsible for money and food, Gal’s fundraising background at United Way made him ideal for collecting money Reluctantly, he also became the grill master.
• Bryan Cullen:
  • In charge of purchasing and distributing all beverages, alcoholic and non-alcoholic. Bryan commissioned a study to optimize cooler placement for players’ convenience.

During an extraordinary three-week period, 68 skilled golfers hailing from Washington D.C. to Boston, MA enthusiastically joined the first edition of the tournament.

For over twenty years, the passion for the tournament has continued to flourish since the inaugural gathering. This event holds a special place in the hearts of dozens of grown, accomplished men, who ardently declare it to be “their favorite day of the year.” It serves as an annual reunion, bringing together fathers and sons, brothers, cousins, and friends in a day of unmatched camaraderie.

While the self-aggrandizing atmosphere surrounding the tournament may be partly satirical, the genuine enthusiasm is palpable. Each golfer wants to win, not just for the thrill of the victory, but more importantly for the ensuing bragging rights that echo around the same kitchen table where the tournament was first conceived.

Once a year, Red Maples Golf Course transforms into the greatest track in the world. While “a tradition unlike any other” is trademarked by The Masters, this group has wholeheartedly embraced it as its own. The annual pilgrimage to Waymart has evolved beyond a mere golf tournament; as Chris Cullen aptly expressed to a naysayer complaining about pace of play, “This isn’t a golf tournament. It’s a picnic with golf sprinkled in. We wouldn’t mind if it took longer.”