The son of a history professor, Steve DiMeglio had encyclopedic knowledge of the game of golf. If you ever had the chance to follow him around a PGA Tour event like I did, you’d see he couldn’t walk two steps without running into a friend − players, their caddies and other reporters – and telling a joke with a fist bump and ‘Hey, big man” as his usual greeting.
He was teased by friends for his diminutive stature, and he’d give it right back with his quick wit and fun-loving nature.
He was opinionated but fair in his scrutiny. He was generous with friends but could also be frugal. I knew he’d catch rides at tournaments with fellow reporters to save money on a rental.
He was funny and always supportive of outsiders like me, who entered the inner sanctum of golf and got to see the game through his eyes when I was his editor at USA TODAY and later at Golfweek.
DiMeglio died this week at the age of 63 after battling cancer, a journey he documented regularly with posts on social media. His passing touched the biggest names in golf, with Tiger Woods writing, “Unfortunately the golf world lost part of our family today, beloved golf writer Steve DiMeglio. I was always very close to Steve and we texted and talked about how he needed to keep fighting to get better so we could see each other in the Bahamas last month. And we did. I am so grateful for that. This is a very sad day for all of golf. We truly lost a friend.”
‘He was quick to laugh about everything, including himself’
Most of us who worked closely with Steve knew one of his super powers was his ability to build relationships.
“He was incredibly well connected. I think without trying to curry favor, he had favor with the golfers,” said Reid Cherner, a former sports editor at USA TODAY. “He was pretty even-handed, he wasn’t light-handed. He criticized when it was needed, but I think he was always in bounds. I don’t think anybody ever thought he went out of bounds with that criticism. He was so tuned in and knew so much that when you were his editor, you just didn’t have a whole lot you needed to guide Steve on. He just did it.”
All his editors can tell stories about the push-and-pull we’d occasionally have with Steve. Rachel Shuster edited Cover stories at USA TODAY and remembers calling him for occasional assignments.
“First, he’d say, ‘Really? You really need this now?’ It was a game we played,” Shuster said. “I would ask for something, he would bitch and moan and say, ‘Well, I’ll see what I can do.’
“In no time at all, he’d come back with a full story and everything we wanted. I sort of looked forward to those because I knew what was coming, but I also knew he’d get what we needed.”
Joe Fleming was DiMeglio’s longtime golf editor at USA TODAY. They met more than three decades ago when both worked at The Desert Sun in Palm Springs, California.
“He really knew golf, he knew about equipment, he knew about the history, he knew what the players did well and what they weren’t so good at, he knew all that stuff,” Fleming said. ‘He watched a lot of (golf), and he was a really good player, too. He couldn’t hit the fades and the draws as well as the pros, but he knew how to do it. He knew how hard it was.”
DiMeglio was a politics writer covering Capitol Hill before he started at USA TODAY, first on the baseball beat before he switched to golf full time. Lee Ivory, the former publisher and executive editor at Sports Weekly, hired him to cover baseball.
“I thought he was obviously a solid journalist and had a passion for the craft,” Ivory said, when asked about what he saw in DiMeglio. “All of the attributes that you look for in a solid reporter, honest, forthright, passionate and a truth teller. He also brought with it a great personality; he was quick to laugh about everything, including himself.”
Without a doubt, his ability to joke and tease endeared him to his colleagues. USA TODAY columnist Christine Brennan recalls the back-and-forth banter they’d share when covering tournaments together, even though they’d have friendly disagreements at times.
She remembers DiMeglio walking through the press room while covering the Masters, where they sat side-by-side for years. “It was made for Steve DiMeglio. He walked those rows, someone would tease him, someone would stop him to ask a question,” Brennan said. “He couldn’t make it to the aisle because he had so many friends and colleagues that wanted to talk to him.
“He was a golf writer, but he could really run for office on the PGA Tour. He knew everyone, and he just loved the banter, the fun, the teasing. And of course, they just loved him.”
The Masters food, a stash of Diet Pepsi
Augusta National was a place DiMeglio loved, and it’s not hard to see why. The history, the traditions, the beauty of the course leave every reporter in awe as they drive through the gates.
And the food. DiMeglio loved the food, USA TODAY columnist Nancy Armour recalls.
“Some people bring home golf shirts or flags from the Masters. DiMeglio brought home caramel corn,” she wrote.
“In addition to pimento cheese sandwiches and peach ice cream sandwiches, the Masters has a caramel-pecan popcorn that’s delicious. Think Cracker Jack times a million. DiMeglio loved the stuff.
“Any time he’d make a trip to the media dining area, he’d come back with a bag or two of it. By the end of the day, his backpack would be filled with bags of caramel corn and a sandwich or two. The sandwiches he’d eat at night, back at the house the USAT staff rented, chasing them with a Diet Pepsi and a cigarette. But the caramel corn he took home and stashed in his freezer. He once told me, very proudly, that he had enough to last him until mid-summer.”
Scott Zucker, who edited DiMeglio’s baseball stories at Sports Weekly, said DiMeglio was known for his generosity and wouldn’t hesitate to give you the shirt off his back. (He often gave his buddies golf shirts or other freebies he’d get in the mail.) “He was a funny combination of super cheap and also very generous at the same time,” Zucker said with a laugh.
Cherner remembers a trip to Las Vegas the two had when DiMeglio opened up his suitcase.
“He had very little clothes. It was filled with cigarettes and Diet Pepsi,” Cherner said. “I would say to Steve, you know you can buy both here in Las Vegas.
“That was another thing about Steve, he was a funny guy, and he had a great sense of humor about himself.”
I was lucky to share quite a few laughs with Steve myself, but also some hard times as he lost both parents in recent years. I got to see a side of him that was patient, nurturing and kind. He was my guide inside the golf world in 2018 and he boosted me when I questioned myself or wondered if I belonged.
I texted him from a golf event in 2019, feeling like a fish out of water.
“You are NEVER out of place. Have fun,” he texted back.
We will all miss you, big man. But know that we’ll never forget your love of the game and all the stories you gave us.