Thank You Keps
June 23, 2025
"Nice shot Bobby."
The player in red had just landed his hybrid onto the green of the 13th at OSU Scarlet. He breathed warm air into hands before sliding on a pair of winter gloves. Before making his way down the hill, he asked the man, "How do you remember my name?"
This man's jacket blended seamlessly with his khaki pants. It looked like he'd thrown on the heaviest coat he could find in a hurry, late to the tournament. He looked at Bobby, then glanced behind him at the sea of people in blue standing between the 12th green and the 13th tee. Then he looked back at Bobby.
"Ok.. Bobby... Do you see everyone here in blue?"
Bobby looked at the crowd and nodded.
"So I have to remember all of their names. And I have to remember their parent's names. And their siblings' names. And their friends' names... I don't think I'll have any trouble remembering yours."
Bobby took in the sea of blue making his way down the hill. He offered a small nod. A quick glance from his coach in red reminded him of his birdie putt. Amid the constant movement of players and fans, the man in khaki stood stolid next to the tee. He breathed warm air into his hands.
The St. X golf team felt like it lived on the other side of a mystical bridge. I didn't know how I'd ever make it across.
I remember 3 things from freshman year tryouts. 100 people tried out, I barely broke 100, and I was cut.
Those days I used my mom's driver. Tee balls sliced the width of the fairway. My shorts hung beneath my knees. My swing was loopy and erratic. I'd slam a club from time to time.
After shooting a 97 on day one of tryouts, the coach asked me, "What was your best round this summer?"
"Forty-three," I answered.
I was still stuck in the mindset of grade school 9 hole matches while dodging the 55 I had shot on the back nine of Oasis Junior League that week. On hole 5 that day I wielded a 3 wood to the back right of the green and rolled in a slider from the fringe for birdie. Birdies were rare back then.
That's the far out thing about golf , some shots never leave you. Your brain might forget what you ate for breakfast, your friend's birthday, or even the name of a high school classmate. But the flushed 165 yard 8 iron on 15 at TPC Riversbend as a 14 year old. Or the wedge to a foot on 8 at Tri County Golf Ranch during X golf camp that same summer. Those shots stick.
They're stepping stones suspended in mid-air. Each one offers a glimpse of what's possible , a higher vantage point. There's a little more hope of making it over that bridge and into a world of blue letterman jackets. But there's no guarantee. The platform can vanish with an errant shot or 3 putt.
After that freshman year cut, I started the full-on search for the way across. I practiced almost every day after school and on the weekends. Gradually the environment shifted from the sweat caught by my hat, to my shoes crunching the leaves, all the way to playing shots off the frozen pond in front of 10 green.
Rugby season interrupted the push. A few undiagnosed concussions later, it was June, and tryouts were 2 months away. The strength I gained on the pitch turned my loopy swing into a move of form. I ran the summer tournament circuit and returned to tryouts in August, asking myself the same question: "Am I going to get cut?"
The number to make the team was 176 (88-88). I shot 88 the first day and turned in 44 on the front nine of day two.
That question blared during the first two shots on hole 10 , a dogleg right par-4 alongside the lake at the late Weatherwax. Sinking my foot into the bunker front left of the green, the question slowly dialed down until it was radio silent. I danced to the static.
Sandy. Sandy. Bogey. Par. A clean up and down from the ditch on the short 3. 2 pars. Short sided on the par 3 17th, I full swung a prayer of a flop shot dropping 2 feet from the pin.
I had the shakes , oh I had the shakes. My heart was pounding. It wanted out of Middletown. Both my driver and 3 wood hovered 15 feet above the ground shooting down the dry pan fairway.
I grabbed my 56-degree wedge , the one my brother bought that summer from the used bin at Golf Galaxy , and made a smooth swing. The ball flew over the pin, stopping five feet past.
Walking up to the green I noticed The Coach and his assistants were situated off to the side talking to finished players.
I stepped over the putt with the ball a few inches above my feet. I threw it a few cups out right as it dove into the heart of the cup.
I was trembling as I grabbed the ball. My hands were still pulsing when I pulled out the scorecard. I etched a "36" under the OUT column , even par.
We signed scorecards and made our way over to the group of adults past the green.
"Who just hit it close?" The Coach asked.
"I did."
"Great shot."
I handed him the scorecard and he scanned it. His eyes widened, "...Wow."
Alex Kepley comes from a family of thoroughbreds. For most of us, our Dads introduce us to the game. For Alex, it was his Mom.
Louise Kepley wasn't just the best golfer in their family , or even their club , she was one of the best in Cincinnati.
She won the Cincinnati Women's Met 4 times. Won 20 club championships at Cincinnati Country Club. She even made 10 holes in one and is in the Ohio Golf Hall of Fame.
The golf gene spread. Alex's brother Keith captained Duke's golf team. His cousin Janie was a top Cincinnati amateur. "Louise and Janie would have these battles in amateur tournaments," says Jeff Feldkamp (X '85). "Everyone in the city knew who they were."
"But I really didn't know their universe until after college," Jeff continues. "In high school, I played football and baseball. Kepley was that skinny, smart kid in big glasses on the golf team. I was from Anderson. He was from Indian Hill. Our crowds mixed at parties, but we didn't call each other up to hang out."
After graduating from Purdue, Jeff moved to Cincinnati's East Side. Through a mutual friend, he reconnected with Kepley and they started golfing together. Jeff admits, "I always loved golf but I wasn't very good. Keps didn't care."
Despite his family's golf pedigree, Kepley knew what it was like to be around everyday golfers. He spent his high school and college years caddying at Hyde Park Country Club , an experience that became his gateway into the adult world. One summer, fresh off graduation from UVA, he caddied for an executive from Cincinnati Belting and Transmission. Kepley told the man he was looking for work. After the round, he got a job offer and still works at CBT today.
He told us this story on a phone call during a road trip to Pinehurst, NC in May of 2020 , peak COVID. Oscar Zimmerman (X '19), Joe Bresnen (LaSalle '19), and I drove down Friday, played 54 holes Saturday, and drove back Sunday. An insane attempt to stay sane.
"Ok, so if you're 5 hours into the trip and you're on I74, you can probably see Pilot Mountain by now. Can you see Pilot Mountain?" Kepley asked.
Sure enough, through the windshield on the horizon, there was the rock hilltop. We were in disbelief. We laughed as the call time ticked past an hour and a half on the dashboard.
Oscar remembers: "I was this cocky freshman who wanted to go pro. I had no idea who this Kepley guy was. I got to the first tee of tryouts and I was terrified. He was serious."
"Early on, I held a grudge because he didn't put me on varsity freshman year, and then I didn't get chosen for state sophomore year. After that, I wasn't sure if I would play high school golf. I just wanted to play my own tournaments so we had a chat. He understood where I was coming from and I saw him view me as more than one of his players."
"Everything flipped after that first van ride junior year. I loved him , it was so much fun. The van rides were the best. By senior year, we had a completely different team, and it felt like I'd known him forever. He kept reminding me, 'It's your senior year , just have fun.' Being around him that year helped me realize it's way more than just golf."
Joe didn't even go to St. X , he played for rival LaSalle.
"My first real moment with Keps was during a match at Hyde Park," Joe recalls. "I was playing with three D1-bound kids. I had no business being there."
"I hit a few OB. My coach was MIA. The other guys finished and headed to 7 tee, but Keps told them to go on. He stayed back and tended the flag."
'Joe Bresnen, I can tell you're frustrated,' he said. 'Don't play them. Play the course. I know you shoot decent scores with your buddies. Just pretend they're your buddies. Don't worry about the rest.'
"I had no idea how he knew my name," Joe said. "But I finished that round smiling. After that, Keps always made a point to ask how I was doing."
As Joe got to know Oscar and me, he got to know Keps too. The four of us played a round after senior year, and Joe and Kepley have stayed in touch ever since.
Last fall, Joe rode in Kepley's cart at the 2024 State Tournament. A few months later, in January 2025, he visited Keps at his home in Florida with Feldkamp. They drank beers and played 108 holes together.
"Kepley saw my best shot ever," Joe said. "I holed a 6-iron from 200 yards out. He was more excited than I was , which shows you the kind of person he is."
What I've learned living in Cincinnati is that you can't really disappear. It's the kind of place where people tend to stick around, where names and stories travel. The longer you're here, the more everything starts to feel connected in between the rolling hills.
A few months back, I wandered into the pro shop at Losantiville Country Club while in Pleasant Ridge. Behind the counter was David Harkte, head pro , St. X class of '07. I told him about the piece I was working on and asked what he remembered about Kepley.
Without missing a beat, he smiled.
"Does he still drink the Big Gulp with Diet Coke?"
I laughed. Some things don't change.
"The van rides were great," he continued. "I coached Sycamore Junior High, and we'd see St. X at Blue Ash. Alex would always come over and ask, 'Dave, how are you? How are the kids?'"
That was Keps. But being a great coach takes more than just connection.
"Keps made it so easy to be a coach , he did everything," Feldkamp said. "He scheduled 130 matches a year and managed relationships with all the courses. We've always had 5-6 teams, and at one point had 47 kids. Over the years I've asked him, 'Do we need a Varsity 3? Do we need a JV 3?' He just loved the idea that kids got to be part of a high school program. I don't know any other coach with his depth of golf knowledge, history, and connection to every coach in the state of Ohio."
And more than that , there was real dedication to the team and the game. From November to June he lived in Florida. Every summer, he'd move back to Ohio for the season, then return to Florida once it wrapped. Somehow, he still managed to play 300 rounds a year , often being the first one on the course each day.
I wouldn't say Coach and I had a deep relationship. I spent junior and senior year on Varsity 2 and 3, so we didn't cross paths much during matches. But in the moments we did connect, there was an ease to him , a quiet humility that somehow reached all 40 kids on a team full of high schoolers from an affluent school. The vision and standard of excellence was there too, but it never came at the expense of the kids.
Many shared this sentiment.
Kepley leaves behind a wall full of GCL titles and a couple of state championships. He also played a major role in getting St. X the short game facility , a gift that will benefit the program for years to come. But even more than the banners or the practice green, he leaves behind a culture , and hundreds of kids who carry fond memories from their time on the high school golf team.
And now, with Kepley gone, the question lingers:
What now?
"What's going to happen when he's not on his game in a few months?" Feldkamp wonders. "We really won't know until it happens. He was always working months ahead of the season. He could go to St. Leo University and teach golf , he may not be a teaching professional, but he can absolutely teach kids about the game."
Sometimes I wonder , if I had made the team freshman year at Moeller or Loveland, would I have ever developed the same appreciation for the game? Would I have kept playing? Would I have stuck around long enough to learn that golf isn't about one season, one team, or even one swing , but about staying with it long enough to figure out who you are when things aren't going your way? Would I have gotten to see the places I've seen? Met the people I've met? Would I be working in golf now?
St. X made a smart hire with Alex Nikias , Cincinnati native, collegiate player, experienced coach, tour caddie, and TPI certified. He's a true golf nut that knows how to lead, train, and motivate. It's also a plus that he's taught at X for the past ten years.
But there's something different about a man who wears his rounds on his face.
Something about a guy who finishes 18 before you've finished your first cup of coffee.
Something about calling you by name before you even know who he is.
There's no way to fully replace that.
But maybe you don't have to.
Maybe the best way to honor it , is to carry it forward.
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