Eli and I stared at each other nervously on our webcams, waiting for the one we thought we would never, ever get. We were both sitting at our computers, mics hot and palms sweaty. We had completed a sound check, a lighting check, an is-there-anything-in-my-teeth check, and ran through our list of questions for the third time.

Three minutes turned into five. I wondered if something wasn’t right. My phone rang. California number. I didn’t know who it was, but I knew what they were going to say.

“Carl is having trouble with the link,” a voice said.

My stomach dropped. We were about to miss our chance to interview Carl Weathers.

I should probably back up. We’re two guys in our early 40s who host a golf podcast. Why would we want to talk to Carl Weathers, of all people?

Weathers, the legendary actor best known for playing Apollo Creed in the Rocky films and beloved in the golf universe for playing Chubbs Peterson in Happy Gilmore, was not a golfer. But he had grown into an unlikely character on our pod. Seven years ago, Eli and I were in Las Vegas, recording ambient chatter for what would become Season 1 of Chasing Scratch. As we pulled our bags out of the trunk of our rental car in the Stallion Mountain Golf Club parking lot, Eli thought he saw Carl.

“That is DEAD ON Carl Weathers!” Eli exclaimed.

It wasn’t Carl Weathers. But the mics picked up our conversation, and we included it in an early episode because we thought it was funny.

The reaction we got after that episode was immediate and overwhelming. Over the next six years, Carl became the de facto mascot and totem for the show. His iconic movie lines became a staple of our banter. Listeners continue to send us gifts of Carl memorabilia, including a signed boxing glove. The trophy for our final match every year is a Carl Weathers autographed picture that the winner proudly displays in their house. I’m typing this in front of a life-sized cardboard cutout of Carl Weathers playing Apollo Creed, star-spangled boxing trunks on and a menacing stare emanating from somewhere just north of his moustache. 

As the years went on, listeners began reaching out to Carl, trying to get him on the show. They sent him letters, emails, and social media messages; we had one listener reach out who had worked with his agent to cast him for a video game voice acting role. Our good friend and Golfer’s Journal contributor Charlie Warzel pulled every string he had—all to no avail.

Then, in January 2024, a listener sent us an email with the subject reading simply, “CARL WEATHERS.”

This listener was named Mike Prinzivalli, and he was working with Carl for a promotion on the gambling site FanDuel. He connected us, and after a few weeks of back and forth with Carl’s team, the date was set. Tuesday, January 30.

I looked at the clock, sweating. We were now 17 minutes past our interview start time, and Carl was still unable to join our recording.

“Let me patch you through to Carl,” his agent said.

I swallowed hard—my first introduction to our show’s cult hero would be as a technical support agent. I braced for him to be irritated and readied myself for a let’s-get-this-over-with, I-don’t-have-time-for-this sort of tone.

I was stunned when he opened by apologizing for his technical issues. In just a couple of moments, it was clear that Carl Weathers was a delightful person. When we finally got things working, I asked if he was still good on time.

“Let’s go man, let’s go!” he said brightly. “We’ll go until we can’t go no mo’!”

And so we went. Carl answered our questions thoughtfully, his responses genuine and heartfelt. When we hit the 30-minute mark, I told Carl we wanted to be respectful of his time. He didn’t miss a beat.

“Let’s keep going,” he said energetically.

At about the 40-minute mark, we asked Carl about his favorite line he ever delivered. In full Apollo Creed tone, he exclaimed “There IS no tomorrow!”

I thought our entire podcast peaked at that moment; but Carl was only getting warmed up. Our final question was about advice he would give people striving for a goal. He responded with three minutes of pure inspiration. 

“Showing up is NOT enough!” he hollered. “I’m sorry, folks, it’s not enough. What are you going to do after you get there? What are you going to do with all that energy—with the life God has given you? What are you going to do with it?”

Two days later, on February 1, we released a teaser on social media featuring Carl bellowing “There IS no tomorrow!” The responses nearly crashed the social media apps on our phones. They say you should never meet your heroes, but we couldn’t wait to introduce ours. 

In seven years, I’ve never implored anyone to listen to our podcast. But on the morning of February 2, I sent the Carl Weathers interview to my whole family, most of my friends, and even a few people I don’t like that much. Alongside the episode link, I wrote: “Everyone should hear what Carl has to say.”

The feedback began almost immediately upon the podcast’s release—everyone was blown away by Carl.

Some people transcribed his last answer—all three minutes of it—to save for future inspiration. Others took the audio of his words, set it to inspirational music and shared it on their social media accounts. My Dad texted me after listening and said, “I feel like I’ve just witnessed true greatness.”

In our wave of joy, I did notice one odd thing: We hadn’t had any reaction from Carl himself. He hadn’t liked or responded to our posts on X, where he was usually quite active. I figured it was just because he was on the West Coast and went on celebrating.

Feedback poured in as the day went on. But as the hours ticked by, there was still nothing from Carl. I wondered if something wasn’t right. Surely by now he should have seen the posts online when the interview dropped, and responded with his trademark passion and joy. 

Then my phone rang. New Jersey number. I didn’t know who it was, but I knew what they were going to say.

“Carl passed away last night,” the voice said.

Grief is a strange thing. Eli and I had only been in Carl’s presence for 45 minutes. We never met him in person. But we had spent the past seven years parroting his lines, allowing him to increase in significance within our weird little corner of the golf internet. In less than an hour of conversation, Carl had given us a gift. Just as quickly as he fully arrived in our lives, he was gone. As far as we know, the interview he gave to us are his final words in a public setting. 

He passed away peacefully, in his sleep, the same night that we promoted the episode with his “There IS no tomorrow!” clip. But there was actually no tomorrow. How was that even possible?

Stunned, hurting and unsure about the right thing to do, we pulled the interview down. A few weeks later, we got the OK from Carl’s team to put the podcast back up as a tribute to him. It is our most downloaded episode of Season 7.

Months later, it was early Sunday morning. It was my day to help with the 3rd graders at church and I’ll be blunt: I was not excited about it. I fully intended to just show up and go through the motions. Then, something happened that had been recurring constantly since that interview in January: Carl spoke to me.

“Showing up is NOT enough—I’m sorry folks, it’s not enough. What are you going to do after you get there? What are you going to do with all that energy—with the life God has given you? What are you going to do with it?” 

You caught me, Carl, I thought. At a stoplight, I loaded up the interview and scrolled to hear his closing few sentences:

“My advice to anybody is to just go after it and go after it with as much love and energy and as much passion as you have, because man it’s infectious when you walk in the door with that, you know? People around you just pick up on it. And that’s part of what is the key to success in life. How you affect other people is directly a result of how you go about what you’re doing.”

I realized at that moment that we not only got to hear Carl’s advice—we saw it in action. He could have easily just “shown up” to our interview. He could have used those technical issues at the beginning of the call to get out of the whole thing, and no one would have blamed him. He could have coasted and given us a quick 15 minutes of canned answers, and no one would have thought less of him. 

But he didn’t. 

He gave a passionate interview to two people he’d never met, for a podcast about a sport he didn’t play. He poured 100% of his energy, attention, love, and joy into it. His words were full of meaning, but it was his actions that continue to affect me, Eli, and our listeners almost a year later. He took his own words to heart. He walked the walk, to the very end. 

As we look back on 2024 and plan for the future—both on and off the golf course—I’ll ask everyone reading this the same thing Carl asked us. Because he’s entirely correct. Showing up is not enough. And sometimes, there really is no tomorrow.

So, what are you going to do with all that energy? What are you going to do with today?