So, picture Adam Fine in a stark room, lying on a Vancouver hospital bed, feeling… not what you’d expect. The whole gratitude, relief, yay-surgery-was-a-success vibe was there, sure. But something else was bugging him — the golf course. I mean, who thinks about golf after a liver transplant? Apparently, this guy.
Let’s rewind a bit. We’re talking about a dude freshly stitched up, almost two feet of his side sewn together, liver replaced, handed a new chance at life. And his big thought? “How soon can I swing a club?” I kid you not.
Once they let him loose from the hospital, he wasn’t about to slow down. Nope. He rode that passion wave right into a new gig on YouTube. Yeah, that oversaturated platform where everyone has something to say. He went with “Not A Scratch Golfer,” and it clicked with a bizarre mix of relatable self-mockery and, dare I say, actual useful tips. So, this channel didn’t get followers drooling over a flawless swing — nope, quite the opposite. They watched because he was, well, average.
But don’t get it twisted, okay? Fine didn’t always see himself as some content whiz. In fact, he wasn’t even a forever-golf fanatic. Plot twist!
Oh, where was I going with this… Right, the golfing bug that bit harder than any diagnosis. Flashback to his growing up days in Vancouver. The dude was more into shredding snowy trails than dealing with bunkers and greens. Honestly, this guy thought golf was the ultimate snooze fest. “Too tough, too long, too boring” was his mantra back then.
He did the sensible thing (or what society deems sensible) — went to university, got a legit tech-industry job. But life had other plans. Because that’s when health stuff went sideways. Chronic tiredness despite 12-hour slumbers, zero appetite, and the persistent sensation of tiny wings under his skin. Pretty soon his glow disappeared like the ghost of a smile.
After far too many medical misadventures, he got hit with the real deal diagnosis: Primary Sclerosing Cholangitis — a.k.a. his liver was staging a rebellion. With this rare beast of an illness, you either find a donor or start making peace with farewells.
On this health rollercoaster, golf entered the chat. Desperate to find any physical activity not thwarted by his rebellious liver, he tagged along with his girlfriend (bless her for suggesting it) for some twilight rounds at TPC Harding Park. Thirty bucks to wander green pastures and swing metal clubs — who knew it would be revolutionary? “Felt like a weight was lifted,” he said. The gnats bugging his skin vanished. Magic.
So, of course, he’s hooked. Lobbing little white balls became his jam until even his body deployed the brakes. Then this whole miraculous donor match came through, and off he went to Vancouver for the liver exchange. Emergency room team couldn’t believe he lasted that long.
Surgery worked like a miracle. Got him ten days to Rambo his way back out and, you’ll never guess, straight back to tee time. “Just keep it light,” the docs said. “Does golf qualify?” was his first thought.
Somewhere in all that jazz, he decided to ditch the tech sales grind for a life of being alive (and golfing). Playing a staggering 260 rounds in just one year — that’ll make any golfer’s heart skip.
Cue the rise of “Not A Scratch Golfer.” Imagine a channel that eschews pristine swings for mental game prowess. Crafting strategies over thinking mechanics. He turned the handicap into a narrative — bodies may wobble but brains plot wondrous journeys through endless rough patches. Fine’s content chronicles it all — every mishap, every happy accident, every insight.
The beauty? No production crew finessed these creations. Just Fine, his iPhone, and perhaps a tripod if he’s feeling fancy. Each video was like opening a raw book of golf, the ‘unkempt novel’ amidst polished biographies of pro players.
When his initial video got a shoutout from his idol’s channel “Golf Sidekick,” fans came knocking. It begged the question, “What if people actually wanted more?” Turns out they did.
So, the takeaway? Fine’s unpolished, all-in vibe became a full-fledged sensation. You know, the kind of journey that — sorry for the sap — makes you believe in some cosmic hand guiding souls in the right direction. By baring it all, he found his niche. It clicked — real people, real stakes, real golf. And miraculously, life’s imperfections award you in ways perfectly perfect things just can’t.
“Don’t let perfect be the enemy of good,” a friend once said. Fine lived by it and turned it into hundreds of videos, each one a testament to scruffy excellence.
So that’s Fine’s spiel. Found a way to carve out joy and purpose despite life’s sharp edges. Maybe, just maybe, we all ought to take his shot.
