What drives Erik Compton? How can he stare his future in the face and not blink? Why does he surprise his touring pro buddies by popping into the locker room at the Doral days after a heart procedure? How can he place himself in the public spotlight and unflinchingly answer such personal and probing questions?

I can only deduce one thing: He’s found golf’s mojo.

For those who don’t know, Erik received a heart transplant 16 years ago at age 12. Today, he faces increasingly serious issues that have drawn him irrevocably back to the place where he finds a large measure of peace and comfort: the world of golf.

Here is what Erik said to The Golf Channel’s Tim Rosaforte during one profound TV interview, “I think all these guys out there on tour—all the top players—they have so much magic. And it’s good for me to be around them for that to rub off.”

All of us know that golf has that certain “something” that can make pulses race and spouses incredulous. But I’ll tell you, when Erik looked Tim in the eye and said in essence that he sought golf’s magic power at this crucial time in his life, wow, that really opened my eyes. Suddenly, hundreds of years of golf addiction made sense.

What is mojo? Simply, mojo means “soul” or “life-force.” Most of us, I think, believe that our golf addiction comes from our strange proclivity for self-abuse in a green paradise. Erik sees things, I believe, quite differently. I believe that he sees the game, its verdant stage, and all its heroic players as a holistic and positive force, as something to seek in times of trouble, as valuable to his outlook and well-being. This is a remarkable thing for him to express, and a valuable thing for us to ponder.

In Erik’s view, he is not taking this life-journey alone. As he told Tim, “I have a girl’s heart. She’s taken me 16 years and she’s tired and I think she wants some peace.” He has often said that he’s living his life for two—for himself and for the girl who saved his life. “The hardest thing for me is realizing that I have to let some of that go if I get another transplant. Somebody else will be with me—again…that’s kind of hard for me to deal with a little bit.”

Some say that golf gives you heart. In Erik’s case, his new heart gave him golf. That girl allowed Erik to live a dynamic life wrapped in the embrace of golf’s newly discovered magic. Erik and golf formed a life-altering bond in 1992, during the rehabilitation following his heart transplant. He rose to become the top junior boy golfer in the nation, an All-American at the University of Georgia, a player on the Walker Cup team, and a member of the Nationwide Tour with his sights set on a PGA Tour card. Then, last September, emergency surgery unblocked an artery that would have certainly killed him. Most recently, on March 18, he underwent an angioplasty and ultimately had to have a defibrillator implanted in his heart. Then what? Then, four short days later, he was talking to Tim and spending a day at Doral with his buds.

Now at 28 years old, Erik’s heart is failing and he requires a another transplant. He will have to let the girl go. He is saddened, optimistic, and philosophical at the same time, while seeking solace amidst a steady supply of good golf mojo.

So, where laughter is the best medicine for some, for Erik I think it is a pured four-iron in the hands of a friend. Or, maybe I am romanticizing his words. Perhaps he travels to golf’s venue merely as a weary traveler might return home where he belongs. Still, if we’re talking about mojo, there’s no place like home. Or maybe for Erik, there’s no place like home on the range.

Photo by Dot Paul