The pro named ‘Beef’ was always a magnet – and then Barstool found him

Only the last year of Cody Franke’s short life was available to us all through the wonders of the Internet, with its uncanny ability to identify the transcendent among us.

Cody Franke – “Codeman,” to his lifelong family and friends; ‘Beef’, for those who have recently arrived – died last month at the age of 31. Franke (rhymes with Yankee) was the son of a Midwesterner growing up in the golf teaching and merchandising business in the Southern California desert when Barstool Sports had the inventive idea to make him the media company’s first “Head Golf Professional.” Sam “Riggs” Bozoian, who worked closely with Franke at Barstool, shared the news of Franke’s death on Barstool’s Fore Play podcast. “He was the nicest man, all day, every day, to everyone he met,” Riggs said. That post has over a million views.

There was a memorial service for Franke on Saturday morning. The service was held at Grace Community Bible Church, in the small town of Lake Villa, Illinois, over an hour’s drive north of Soldier Field, home of the Bears. (Lake Villa is near the Wisconsin border, but Franke’s interests always pointed north and east to Chicago.) The service, available to all through the magic of YouTube and lasting nearly two hours, was billed as a “Celebration of Life.” A more precise description cannot be imagined.

The speakers were all family members and old friends. Franke’s grandfather wore a baseball cap BEEF over the edge. He sat on a white plastic chair next to his wife, Cody’s grandmother. “Grandpa” and “Grams,” in the stories that unfolded. In the foreground, next to the pulpit, were Cody’s golf bag and a collection of golf caps, including one from the Masters. Behind the white plastic chairs were the words in tall, white plastic letters FEED THE FIREa church motto.

“Can I hear BEEF!?” Grandpa asked the parishioners.

“BEEF!” they shouted in unison.

There were numerous references to Franke’s athletic gifts, in golf, boating and fishing, football, hockey and baseball. (“Don’t slide, Cody!” He slid.) Also his interest in history and his passion for sports on TV. There were more than a few references to his warmth, kindness, selflessness and size. His size was part of his personal calling card, along with everything else. He was a package deal. You took it all with you.

The speakers came to the pulpit in pairs and two of the last, Dominic Scopone and David Rudary, were classmates and roommates of Franke at Ferris State in Big Rapids, Michigan. Both men spoke about meeting Franke as freshmen.

“Are you here to play football for Ferris?” Scopone asked in their first conversation.

“Uh, no,” Franke said. “Here for the golf program.”

“Oh, cool. Me too.”

Five or six minutes later, Franke tapped his future roommate on the arm and said, “That happens all the time, don’t worry about it.”

Late last month, Rudary described being at a pool bar at a resort in Punta Cana, Dominican Republic. In the run-up to his wedding ceremony, Rudary asked Franke, one of his groomsmen, what he would like to drink. Fifteen minutes later, Rudary handed Franke a beer. “That doesn’t look like a Double Jack and Coke,” Franke said. “Luckily,” Rudary told the congregants, “he wasn’t very picky.”

Cody Franke died during that trip to the Dominican Republic, on Saturday, October 25, due to an unspecified and sudden medical emergency. Rudary described how the inner ring of his wedding ring was made from wood from a Jack Daniel’s whiskey barrel. It was a nod to how the cosmic becomes intertwined with the coincidental and the hidden meaning of everyday life.

Scopone and Rudary urged their listeners to follow Franke’s path, to live a life you have no regrets, live a life where no one can say a bad word about you, live a life where you do something for others.

The dozens of tributes at Grace Community on Saturday, combined with the images on display – a long series of Cody Franke this-is-your-life photos – painted a picture of a fully committed man, despite the obstacles he must have faced in his daily life.

Barstool founder Dave Portnoy and his colleagues must have recognized, surely by intuition alone, what Lorne Michaels recognized when he hired Chris Farley, the athletic, great comedian with Da Beren runs through his veins, for the cast of “Saturday Night Live.” Franke, like Farley, was an average man.

Franke was devoted to the veterans’ charity Folds of Honor. In an interview, Sara Bush, a Folds of Honor official, described first meeting Franke at an event in Chicago. “His handshake was like a hug,” she said. A few days before the memorial service, there was a Folds of Honor fundraiser in Franke’s name at the Desert Willow Golf Resort in Palm Desert, California, where Franke had been a professional. A few years ago, Franke, among other big-hearted golf nuts, played 100 holes in a 24-hour period, including a round of golf played under a full moon, as a fundraiser for Folds of Honor. Bush described a young man for whom “ma’am” and “sir” were second nature.

Franke’s golf coach at Lakes Community High, Bill Hamill, recalled a good golfer who could shoot nine holes as a teenager in the low 40s and had one key swing thought: keep rotating your torso, through the ball and into the final moment of your follow-through. Hamill said in a telephone interview that Cody followed his brother Craig, first to the Lakes Community golf team and later to the PGA Golf Management program at Ferris State. Hamill noted that Franke’s lessons for adults, examples of which can be easily found on the Barstool website, are standout examples of straightforward analysis that covers universal golf fundamentals while taking into account a player’s body type and swing tendencies.

Hamill, amused by the memory, recalled Franke doing the shirtless, belly-shaking Truffle Shuffle from the movie The Goonies following a triumphant win over Lakes Community in a district tournament. He also described how he fueled himself intra-round with Snickers bars and bags of FritoLay chips, washed down with Mountain Dew. The Bible Community tributes were also awash in Mountain Dew. No one judged, not Coach Hamill, who remembered Franke in high school, and no one at the Celebration of Life event, where his mother, stepfather, brother, cousins ​​and friends spoke, some from folded sheets, others with cell phones in hand. The link to the service showed that a few hundred people had watched it.

Millions watched Cody, Head Pro of Barstool Sports, compete in Barstool’s Internet Invitational. It was played this summer and consisted of 16 three-person teams, with the golfers earning their roster spots through internet influence. The elimination-format event was meaningless and pregnant with meaning, like everything in golf. We value – each of us, all of us – what we please. We decide. It has always been that way, but there is more of it now than ever before. It used to be that the networks and your morning paper told you what was important. Those days are over. Cody Franke stepped into the void, as Barstool’s talent searchers somehow knew he would.

The winning team received one million dollars to split three ways. For the final – which was set on August 16, ten weeks before Franke’s death – someone asked Franke what he would do if this massive reality TV payout came his way. “I think I’d pay off my parents’ house,” he said. The comment was justified because it was purely Franke and not from a script. And because his answer was recorded. Millions of people have probably heard that comment by now. Millions watched the awards ceremony, when Portnoy handed out winking pink jackets to the winners. Two of the winners slipped in. Franke held his in his hands. When the moment was captured three months ago, it looked like a funny pink sportcoat that probably wouldn’t fit. Now it looks more like a shroud.

Cody Franke hit his don’t-duff-it chip shot on the final hole, all it took to secure his team’s victory, with a putter. How beef is that?

Michael Bamberger welcomes your comments at Michael.Bamberger@Golf.com