The Democrat Golf Tourney lost two giants in the past 10 months – two people who not only participated in the tournament, but in their own way, defined it. 

Marvin Newberg and Marty Passante were a big part of perpetuating the aura and success of the tournament. They were also two people I always looked up to, and played a significant role in my development as a competitive golfer.

Marvin Newberg

Marvin’s sudden death a week ago was numbing to me and many of us. All you needed to know about Marvin was how many people attended his funeral – standing room only. It was a testament to his popularity and easy-going personality that established lasting bonds with virtually everyone he met.

I first met Marvin when I was 14 or 15, ironically in Miami, Florida. He was getting ready to play golf with his mom and me with my dad. 

The course was Costa Del Sol, a few minutes away from the Doral. We were both there glomming free rounds from former Grossinger pro Pete Donnelly, who was Costa del Sol’s Director of Golf. 

My father was an attorney in Liberty and knew Marvin as he was just getting his law career started. Anyway, we joined up and played 18 holes together. Marvin would later tell my dad to make sure I stayed in Florida – he didn’t want to deal with me in Sullivan County tournaments.

Truth is, I played at Grossinger’s during the summer, and Marvin was among the best players in the area. He schooled me quite a few times in the Times-Herald Record tournament, which he virtually owned for a stretch of time in the early 1980s. 

I remember him just wearing me down, with a gritty game highlighted by uncanny putting and a stubborn competitiveness. It left a lasting effect on me as I was just starting to understand that tournament golf was a lot more than just a nice golf swing. 

It was about scoring, patience, guile, and handling the pressure of the moment. Marvin was remarkably calm under the gun and welcomed the opportunity to make a great par putt with everything on the line. 

I can honestly say that some of my competitive nature was reared by those early days playing with Marvin.

Marvin and I shared several connections – our dads were both attorneys, we loved golf, liked playing cards, and welcomed a wager here and there. 

We were also both Ivy-League graduates: I went to Columbia and he went to Penn. We would always make each other aware of a significant or even an insignificant win of one school over the other. 

Penn definitely got the better of Columbia when it came to the major sports of football and basketball, but Marvin was certainly aware of the Columbia hoops team of 1968, which beat his Quakers for an Ivy title and then won a first-round game in the NCAA tourney. 

He could name the entire starting five of that Lions team: Hayward Dotson, Paul Newmark, Jim McMillan, Roger Walaszek and Bill Ames. I was not as up on Penn’s starting five from the team that made the Final Four in 1978. The only starter I could name was Tony Price.

Along with Charlie Johnston and Matt Kleiner, I played hundreds of rounds of golf with Marvin over the years. We had our exchanges of wagers, but Marvin seemed to be the “victim” of some of my career rounds at the Villa – he was there when I shot my 64 and both of my 65s. I guess you can say I was always comfortable playing with him – despite his deliberate pace.

He was one of my biggest fans and followers, always checking  the live scoring when I was playing in an MGA or state tournament. When I won the Westchester Senior Amateur a few years ago, I was not in the car more than 10 minutes heading home when he called to congratulate me. 

Even if I wasn’t winning, Marvin would send me a text for a nice round or finish. 

When it comes to the Democrat, Marvin embraced and supported it from the outset, setting the record for playing in 42 consecutive tournaments until missing last year’s to babysit for his grandchildren. He was the trusted bookkeeper for important Democrat business, which he handed over to me a few years ago. 

I know he would have liked to win it, but it wasn’t the reason he played. At the beginning, he enjoyed reuniting with his childhood friend, Sam Hillman, and the last few years playing with his son, Ben. I believe he is still the oldest person to qualify for the Championship flight, which he did a few years ago in his 70s. 

Marvin had a few pet peeves when it came to golf, one being the airtime Tiger Woods would get when he was way out of contention. 

But what truly riled him was the New York State Golf Association (NYSGA) playing tournaments on the Jewish holidays. He would never play in those events and wrote letters to the powers that be in Syracuse telling them how disrespectful it was for a statewide association to be so inconsiderate of the Jewish faith and Jewish golfers. 

The NYSGA didn’t really change their ways until 2018, when David Prowler of Long Island declined to defend his New York State Senior Amateur title due to the conflict with the Jewish holiday. 

That embarrassment amplified what Marvin had been telling them for years, and the NYSGA has since refrained from scheduling tournaments on the Jewish holidays.

My most memorable times spent with Marvin were the nine-hole walks we would take in late November or early March when the temps were in the low 40s and there were no flags in the holes. Marvin was a gamer, and I could usually count on him to walk with me when I ventured out into the elements. 

We would cover a lot of topics on those walks, from golf, to sports, to local news to politics, to his displeasure with Syracuse basketball coach Jim Boeheim. 

But what stayed with me when we walked – and still does – was when we talked about family. Marvin always emphasized to me that, as much as golf was a passion, never let it come before family. 

Make sure you go to your kids’ games, concerts, birthday parties – no matter what –  he would say. I have tried to follow that advice and be everything Marvin was – an incredibly balanced and humble individual who was both a friend and father figure to me.

Marty Passante 

Matt Kleiner introduced me to Marty in 1987 in a half-built clubhouse at The Villa Roma. He was showing me his crown jewel like Moses unveiled to Pharaoh the City of Sethi’s Glory in The Ten Commandments. The course only had nine holes open at that point, but I knew that day this course was ultimately going to be the best-conditioned in Sullivan County. 

As I got to know Marty over the years and even worked for him in 1987 and 1988, I quickly learned he loved golf and would do anything to elevate the golf experience at the Villa. He played a beautiful private course, Old Marsh in Florida, in the winter, and wanted the Villa to have some of that feel. That’s why throughout the 1990s and early 2000s, it was always in great condition and had fairways that could rival any Westchester course. He invited me to play Old Marsh one year, and I remember sitting in the Men’s Lounge afterwards and Marty introducing me to some of the other members – retired CEOs and prominent business owners. Afterwards, he said to me: “I’m just a pauper at this club!” 

I played a decent amount of golf with Marty and even one Democrat together. We made the Championship flight, won a match and then lost in the quarterfinals. Marty never let me forget that I missed a short putt on the 3rd hole (our 18th) that would have sent the match into sudden death. 

Marty was proud that I represented the Villa Roma playing competitively in the Met Section. He wanted the Villa Roma name out there not just as a family resort, but a legitimate golf course. He never really planned on the course becoming as popular as it did – he told me he would have built it a little differently had he known, mainly bigger and more teeing grounds.

Marty and Matt Kleiner transformed the Democrat from a golf tournament to an event. They added a Friday night barbecue, expanded the field, magnified the wagering “action”  and made The Democrat what is today – a sold-out extravaganza with almost 20 teams on a waiting list.

But my best and most lasting memory of Marty was the nightly cart rides he would take with his wife, Marion, and their dog. They would ride around the entire golf course, Marty always looking for something he could improve upon. I was usually out there at the same time getting my nine-hole walk-in, often with my wife Tanya and daughter Gabby. 

He would take the time to come and say hello, catch up with us, and ask me how I thought the course was playing. But most memorable was the way he treated Gabby, encouraging her and admiring some of the shots she was hitting. 

He would always ask about her when I saw him, as did Marion and still does to this day.