When John Harris was introduced before the second round of the U.S. Senior Open in 2003, he was greeted with lukewarm Midwestern hospitality. There was indifference and a barely audible applause. Who is John Harris, and why is he here? What the crowd didn’t know was that they were looking at a college All-American in both golf and hockey at the University of Minnesota. But Harris was used to those questioning, curious gazes.

He was one of pro golf’s late bloomers, who turned professional at the ripe age of 50. The reason for the delay was lack of confidence. At one point, he gave up on the sport and started his company, Harris-Homeyer Insurance, along with a college friend. It was a success. Harris then started working on his amateur status, and to his surprise, he turned out to be better than he believed. He was the most dominant player in Minnesota for two decades and won the U.S. Amateur in 1993. So, it was no surprise that he received an invitation to the Masters. It was an honor, but he knew his days were numbered as an amateur player.

The competition from the younger players was getting too tough, and he could see the landscape shifting. A change was due, and after capturing the Minnesota Amateur four times and becoming a 10-time Minnesota Player of the Year, he shifted his attention to the Champions Tour. He loved golf and played it until as recently as last Thursday, when he shot even-par 72 at Edina Country Club. But he was also battling cancer and died on Wednesday. He was 73.

He had Acute Myeloid Leukemia, which is a type of blood cancer that affects the bone marrow. His condition had been better in the past few months after a bone-marrow transplant. But when he felt unwell, he was admitted to hospice on Tuesday. PGA Tour Champions president Miller Brady said in a statement, “As one of the most accomplished amateurs of his generation, and a PGA Tour Champions winner, John Harris was an incredible ambassador for our sports. He was beloved by his fellow players, as well as our tournaments and staff, and represented the game of golf with unwavering class and humility. We extend our condolences to his family during this difficult time.”

Success was always difficult to come by for Harris. When he had joined the Champions Tour, none of his first 35 starts witnessed a top-10. Slowly but surely, he cracked the top-10. And in 2006, he broke through the Commerce Bank Championship at Eisenhower Park’s Red Course in East Meadow. That was his lone victory on the over-50 circuit. But golf wasn’t his only passion.

Growing up in Roseau, a tiny Minnesota town, which is about 10 miles away from the Canadian border known for producing high-level hockey talent, it was natural for him to play hockey too. In fact, he earned his scholarship to play under the legendary hockey coach Herb Brooks at Minnesota. He even tried his hand at professional hockey after graduation. But when Q-School happened, and he got his PGA Tour card, priorities shifted.

Golf ran deep in his blood. Harris’ father, Robert, was a runner-up at the 1992 U.S. Senior Amateur. His brother Robbie, too, played golf at times, alongside Ice Hockey. In fact, he represented Team USA in Ice Hockey at the 1976 Olympics. Moreover, his sister Nancy was a standout golfer in her own right and later a Minnesota Golf Hall of Famer! John shared a great bond with his father, teaming up with him to win 12 state father-son titles and a national father-son title. In many ways, the Harris family defined Minnesota sports for generations to come.

The University of Minnesota also inducted Harris into its M Club Hall of Fame in 1994, owing to his excellence in hockey and golf. He was also inducted into the Minnesota Golf Hall of Fame in 1998. Even though he led a standout amateur career, he kept trying in his life to etch a name for himself in the glories of pro golf.

John Harris’ final round on September 11

On Thursday morning, John Harris and David Podas played golf just like the good ol’ days. They were at the Edina Country Club, just outside of Minneapolis, and while their tee time was 9:10 a.m, the two men got off early. As they carried their own clubs, the grass underneath their shoes was still wet.

They talked about the PGA Tour, the Ryder Cup and Harris played well. Good enough for Podas to ask, “Did you get out of a time machine this morning? Is it like 1995 and I don’t know it?” Podas was in trouble after 16 holes as Harris took a lead to the par-3 17th hole. Eventually, Harris and Podas tied with pars, giving the former a 2-and-1 victory. He shot 72.

As both stood on the 17th green, they took of their hats and congratulated each other. And just five days later, as Podas left Harris’ hospital room, they shook hands for one last time. After Harris’ passing, he was thankful he spent that day with his dear friend. They had known each other for over 40 years.