I remember Steve Lapper, a design buff who lived and breathed the game

Steve Lapper died in his sleep last week – the quiet passing of a beloved husband, father, consistent golfer and friend to many in the game, none of whom could describe him as silent.

I first met Steve 15 years ago in the dining room of a local Boston club. He was sitting at the next table over, holding a stage whispering about the work of Golden Age architect William Flynn. Someone made an introduction and we started talking, first about studies, but soon about work and kids and where to find the best dim sum nearby. Suddenly, he was giving me the kind of natural sadness I expect only from people I’ve known and loved for years.

That was Steve. He quickly got to know you. He was drawn to golf as an art form and recreation, but more so as a social catalyst, which he seemed to do wherever he went. Blowing chops was one of his ways of expressing love. He enjoyed his relationship with the game, understanding that the places golf took him and the people he met there were rich rewards.

Steve was born and raised in New Rochelle, NY, and grew up caddying in Wykagyl and Winged Foot. One of his fondest memories was walking Winged Foot as a regular player in the 1974 US Open, an experience he would happily recount to anyone who would listen.

Both his parents played, his mother well enough to win her team’s championship. Steve could also get his ball in the air. Sometimes, he would even hit it with power and precision. But he did not delude himself into thinking that he might make a living. Golf instead became a constant companion in a career that spanned the trading floors of Chicago, San Francisco and New York.

It was in Manhattan that he met his wife, Melissa. They later moved to New Jersey, where they raised two daughters, Sydney and Whitney.

Like New York, Steve had a big personality and stories to match. Friends sometimes accused him of taking license with his poetry and anecdotes, including playing golf and poker with Michael Jordan when Jordan was a rookie. Steve’s friend, Mike Policano, was among the skeptics until a few years ago, when he came to dinner with Steve and two of his friends, one of whom said he had just bumped into Jordan in the hotel lobby. “He then described the two of them playing poker and golf with Jordan,” Policano told me. “I stammered, ‘You mean, that story was true?'”

As well as good yarns, Steve was full of interests and ideas. He learned about food. He collected art. He could talk about high topics without sounding pretentious and about low topics without coming off as a knucklehead. Aside from his wife and daughters, few subjects pleased him more than golf design.

He was an early and influential voice in online construction forums. Debates in those forums can be like academic debates where people care so much because the stakes are so low. Sometimes, Steve ruffled his feathers and arched his back. But he never lost touch with the point of those conversations, which was to exchange ideas and insights with other overthinkers, or its ultimate value, which was small. He can argue furiously and laugh about it an hour later. And he wasn’t too proud to admit when he was wrong.

“Steve can be a lot,” said one of his friends, kindly. I’ve always thought more is better than less. The interview with Steve was to understand that he expects you all to come in. You can count on him to show you the same respect.

Steve has served as a course assessor for GOLF Magazine for over ten years. But his deepest involvement in the game was as a course director and developer. He was president of Paramount Golf Club in New York and co-owner of Fox Hollow Golf Course in New Jersey, and was working on a real estate project at nearby Spring Brook GC when he died.

Brandel Chamblee, the Golf Channel and NBC Sports commentator, first met Steve over lunch at Paramount under circumstances not unlike mine. Steve was sitting nearby and “was invisible,” Chamblee said. “He also knew more about architecture than anyone I’ve ever met. It was like talking to George Thomas, Alister MacKenzie, Bill Coore and Gil Hanse all together.”

Steve and Chamblee became friends, although not because they agreed on everything. “Politically, we couldn’t be more different,” Chamblee said. “But with Steve, you could argue without hate. He would listen. He was open to having his mind changed. Even on heated topics, conversations with Steve were always civil. It reminded me of the way the world used to be. The way the world should be.”

They ended up collaborating on a golf development project that ended up being disrupted. Friendship did not.

Steve will be remembered for his friendliness but also his generosity. He gave of his time and those he came in contact with. Whether I was writing about design, agronomy, the business of golf development or legal matters about the Tour-LIV battle, he was at the top of my call list. If I needed a source, he had a reference. The Kevin Bacon of the golf world, he was rarely more than a few degrees removed from greatness. Usually that figure was someone they knew well enough to blow their chops off.

Golf course photographer Jon Cavalier saw this first hand. Steve was a big inspiration in Cavalier’s launch of LinksGems, the popular Instagram account he runs. “When I first started, I didn’t know much about fancy buildings or private clubs,” Cavalier said. “I didn’t know who to contact or how to behave.” Steve loved Cavalier’s work, he went so far as to say so, and became a friend and mentor, teaching him about design, showing him how to navigate the industry. “If I have 1,000 good relationships in golf,” Cavalier said, “I probably owe 950 to Steve.”

Steve shared his love of golf at home. She inspired Melissa to take up the sport and taught both daughters to play. Before her death, Whitney was planning to host a tournament at her college in Wisconsin to raise money for one of the campus clubs. That event is in April. Steve and Sydney had planned to go. Now, Sydney and her mother will leave. “But dad will be there in the air,” said Sydney. “His idea of ​​heaven was a golf course.”

Steve would have turned 69 this year. The last time we spoke, he was scratching. His game had seen better days and he was the first to say it but without complaint. He knew that was the benefit of every golf swing of a lifetime. He had a planned itinerary and a clear sense of how he hoped to spend his time. He has played 99 of GOLF’s Top 100 Courses in the World, Augusta National being the only one. He would enjoy playing it, but he wouldn’t break his back trying to do so. Going out with friends and family was the main thing. The archive of studies worried him less than the company he kept.

In 2022, one of Steve’s best friends, former classmate David Baum, died in a car accident in New Jersey. In an article on GOLF.com, Steve wrote: “Like many of us, David took lessons and worked on his swing, yet his goal wasn’t to shoot low scores as much as to enjoy the ride. . . . He also saw the game as a portal to fun and discovery.”

I count myself among many who feel the same way about golf, and their world has expanded because of Steve.