Right on Par
Devin R. Heroux
It’s been said that golf is a gentleman’s sport; Murray McMaster personified this. McMaster, who always wore his best, including his freshly pressed khaki pants, could often be found on the lush green fairways of Riverside Golf and Country Club in Saskatoon. McMaster had one playing partner over the years.
“It didn’t matter if I wasn’t winning with Murray, because he wasn’t the best golfer out there,” remembers Saskatoon Mayor, Don Atchison. “For me it was all about Murray’s friendship. He was always going to be my golf partner.”
Murray Malcolm McMaster came from humble beginnings. Growing up as the youngest of three boys in Manola, Alberta, he learned to look after himself early on. When he was 11-years old, his mother died. The tragedy of his mother’s death transformed McMaster’s life early on. Perhaps it was this experience that would catapult McMaster into a lifetime of success.
“He was the ultimate salesman. It didn’t matter if he was selling himself, an idea, or the next piece of furniture that was ready to be sold, he was very convincing,” said Jennifer Heroux.
Heroux is one of three daughters McMaster had with his wife, Jean. The couple, with kids in tow, spent most of the their early years together in Moose Jaw. There, McMaster found himself in a prominent role with the Saskatchewan Wildlife Federation. He served as the President of the Federation from 1972 to 1974.
During this time McMaster was able to increase SWF’s membership by 4,000 to almost 22,000 members. He also implemented new conservation-orientated programs and developed a new central office in Moose Jaw. McMaster’s is best known for his 1972 legal action against the provincial government alleging that the province was not properly allocating and spending money collected for the new wildlife development fund. The suit never came to court, but created provincial change that included 23, 760 acres of land purchased by the province to protect wildlife habitat.
He wrote weekly newsletters and newspaper columns, hosted a wildlife television show, and made appearances at almost every wildlife fundraiser. Despite McMaster always being in a position of power, Heroux remembers that he always made sure he remained their dad when they needed him.
“He had the ability to make you lfeel like you the most important person in the world. It was a duty for him to ensure that we always had what we needed. A duty to provide for his family,”said Heroux.
After his time in Moose Jaw, McMaster and family moved to Saskatoon where he would become part-owner of Simpson Sears and the Saskatoon Sun. Days were long, as McMaster was up before the crack of dawn, and got home late in the evening. He missed family dinners regularly because of his frantic lifestyle. Kathy Tunnicliffe is the oldest daughter in the family. She remembers his busy pace.
“He would always say yes to everyone, and then have to figure out a way to get out of it because he overbooked himself,” recalls Tunnicliffe. “He was the ultimate people pleaser.”
But despite how busy McMaster was, he always made time for golf. He was an avid player who enjoyed being seen at the Country Club. Known by many on the course as the “Coca Cola man” because of his love of the beverage, he could be found sipping his can of Coke and swinging his club on a daily basis. Years of hard work, and having an innate ability to manage money, McMaster had money, lots of money. Nobody ever knew it.
“Around the course people always wondered how Murray could afford being out at the Club. He was just so humble and modest that you wouldn’t think he had the money he did,” said Atchison. “He really was a salt of the earth kind of guy.”
Late in life McMaster fell ill to cancer, and his golf games became fewer and fewer. Undeterred by the sickness that eventually took his life, he would show up at the course with a smile on his face, excited about the potential of another game of golf. Heroux remembers how the game kept him going at a time when things got really rough.
“He took the game very serious early on in life, but it was interesting as his daughter to watch how less and less serious he took it as he grew older. I guess he realized what was really important,” said Heroux. “Towards the end the score never mattered, he was just happy with a par.”
Above all, McMaster was the ultimate gentleman on the course. His attention to the rules, respect for etiquette, and professionalism manifested into all aspects of his life. On Jan. 16, 2002, McMaster finally succumbed to his cancer. Atchison, to this day, still loves to recall their playing days.
He had a higher handicap then me, and was always feeling bad about not making a shot when we needed it,” laughed Atchison. “We’d get back in the car and the first thing he would say is, ‘I helped today, right?
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