The profession called ‘Beef’ was always a magnet – and then Barstool found it

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

Cody Franke – “Codeman”, to his family and lifelong friends; “Beef”, for those who have come in recently – died last month at the age of 31. Franke (rhymes with Yankee) was a son of the Midwest and rising in the golf teaching and marketing business in the Southern California desert when Sports Barstool had the creative 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 passing on Barstool’s Fore Play podcast. “He was the nicest guy, all day, every day, to every person he met,” Riggs said. This post has more than a million views.

On Saturday morning, there was a memorial service for Franke. The service was held at Grace Community Bible Church in the small Illinois town of Lake Villa, an hour’s drive north of Soldier Field, home of the Bears. (Villa Lake is near the Wisconsin border, but Franke’s root interests have always run north and east, toward Chicago.) The service, available for anyone to watch through the magic of YouTube and lasting nearly two hours, was billed as a “Celebration of Life.” There couldn’t be a more accurate description.

The speakers were all family members and old friends. Franke’s grandfather wore a baseball cap BEEF beyond her lip. He sat down in a white plastic chair next to his wife, Cody’s grandmother. “Gramps” and “Grams,” in the story that unfolded. In the foreground, off the lectern, was Cody’s golf bag and a collection of golf hats, including one from the Masters. Behind the white plastic chairs, with long white plastic letters, were the words FEED THE FIREa motto of the church.

“Can I hear BIEF!?” Gramps asked the parishioners.

“BEEF!” they shouted in unison.

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

Speakers came to the podium in pairs, and two of the latter, Dominic Scopone and David Rudary, were Frankes’ classmates and roommates at Ferris State in Big Rapids, Mich. Both talked about meeting Franke as freshmen.

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

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

“Oh, well, me too.”

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

Rudary described being at a swim-up bar at a resort in Punta Cana, Dominican Republic, late last month. Rudary, at the first celebrations of his wedding ceremony, asked Franken, one of his groomsmen, what he would like to drink. Fifteen minutes later, confused, Rudary handed Franke a beer. “This doesn’t look like a Double Jack and Coke,” Franke said. “Fortunately,” Rudary told congregants, “he wasn’t too picky.”

Cody Franke died on that trip to the Dominican Republic on Saturday, October 25, as a result of an unspecified and unexpected medical emergency. Rudary described how the inner ring of his wedding band was made from wood from a Jack Daniel’s whiskey barrel. It was a nod to how the cosmic intertwines with the random and hidden meaning of everyday life.

Scopone and Rudary asked their listeners to follow Franke’s path, to a life that has no regrets, to live a life where no one can say a bad word about you, to live a life where you are doing for others.

The nearly dozen tributes at Grace Community on Saturday, combined with the visuals on display — a long reel of Cody Franke’s This Is Your Life photos — painted a picture of a fully engaged man, despite the obstacles he must have faced in his daily life.

Barstool founder Dave Portnoy and his colleagues must have realized, probably only by intuition, what Lorne Michaels recognized when he hired Chris Farley, the athletic and hulking comedian. Bears Da coursing through his veins, for the cast of “Saturday Night Live.” Franke, like Farley, was the whole man.

Franke was devoted to the veterans charity Folds of Honor. In an interview, Sara Bush, a Folds of Honor official, described meeting Franke for the first time at an event in Chicago. “Squeezing his hands 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 the pro. A few years ago, Franke, along with other big-hearted golfers, played 100 holes in a 24-hour period, including a bunch of golf played under a full moon, as a Folds of Honor fundraiser. 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 in the low 40s for nine holes as a teenager and had one main thought: keep rolling your club, through the ball and into the final moment of your follow through. Hamill, in a telephone interview, said 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 how Franke’s lessons for adults, examples of which are readily available on the Barstool website, are great examples of straightforward analysis that address universal golf fundamentals while allowing for a player’s body type and swing tendencies.

Hamill, delighted by the memory, recalled Franken doing the shirtless, pot-bellied “Truffle Shuffle” from the film Goonies following a triumphant Lakes Community victory in a district tournament. He also described feeding himself, within the round, Snickers bars and bags of FritoLay chips washed down with Mountain Dew. Community Bible Tributes were filled with Mountain Dew as well. No one was judging, not Coach Hamill, who remembered Franken in high school, not even anyone at the Celebration of Life event, where his mother, stepfather, brother, cousins ​​and friends spoke, some in folded sheets, others with cell phones in hand. The link to the service showed that several hundred people had seen it.

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

The winning team got themselves $1 million to split three ways. Forward finale — which aired on Aug. 16, 10 weeks before Franke’s death — someone asked Franke what he would do if this giant reality TV payday came his way. “I think I’ll pay off my parents’ house,” he said. The comment came because it was pure Franke and not from a script. And because his answer was recorded. It is likely that millions have heard this comment by now. Millions watched the awards presentation, when Portnoy handed out pink eyelet jackets to the winners. Two of the winners entered them. Franke held his in his hands. When the moment was shot, three months ago, it looked like a joke pink sports coat that was unlikely to go. Now it looks more like a shroud.

Cody Franke played his chip shot on the last hole, all it took to secure his team’s one-shot victory. How much beef is it?

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