Unleash your game!

Tom Johnson, the Head Coach at Melon Golf Academy, only a few weeks removed from a grueling series of radiation treatments, had hit an 8-iron to the fringe of the par-5 opening hole at Newport National Tuesday morning in the first round of the Rhode Island Open and was left with a 30-foot putt for birdie.

When he rolled it in, said his playing partner, Dave Johnson: "His feet didn't touch the ground. He just floated to the hole."

Dave Johnson is the head pro at Newport National. He's not related to Tom, but the two have been friends for years. Dave knows what Tom, who's only 45, has been through in recent years, as he has undergone, first, a kidney transplant, then numerous surgeries for skin cancer, and, in March, an 81/2-hour operation to remove cancer-ridden lymph nodes in his neck. The surgery left him with vivid scars extending from below each ear — one of which has been partially cut away because of skin cancers — to his throat. That operation was followed by a couple of months of chemotherapy and radiation sessions.

"It was a sight to see," Dave said of his buddy's birdie putt. "But, seeing him do that, I had to think about something else or I'd have lost it. I gave him a high-five. If I'd hugged him, I would have melted right there on the green."

"When I made that putt," said Tom, "I thought: ‘Holy cow! I'm back!' My mind thinks I'm OK. But I have no strength, especially in my legs.

"I've been so competitive for so long, my mind tells me I still can do it. But my body says I can't."

It was only last Friday that Johnson had his feeding tube removed. For five weeks during his radiation treatments, he hadn't been able to eat solid food — or even talk. The lack of conversation bothered him more than the lack of food.

"I've been nicknamed ‘Mayor,' because I want to talk to everybody," he said.

Despite everything, Johnson managed to shoot 82 yesterday.

"I haven't shot over 80 in a long time," he said. "But I'll sleep happily tonight."

For years now, Johnson, who grew up in North Kingstown, has been a regular at state Opens throughout New England. He was second in the Vermont Open and has had several top-10 finishes.

A year ago, when the R.I. Open was held at Pawtucket Country Club, Johnson shot 63 in the opening round. He followed that with rounds of 71 and 69 and finished tied for fourth.

He knew he wasn't going to come close to those numbers yesterday. He didn't know if, given the heat, and the lack of the usual, cooling breeze coming off the Sakonnet River, he'd even be able to finish his round.

But he most definitely knew he wanted to play.

"I love the game," he said. "My passion for the game is unbelievable. I also played because I wanted people to know they shouldn't ever give up."

He asked to be paired with Dave Johnson, a request that R.I. Golf Association officials readily granted.

"Four or five weeks ago," Tom said, "I wasn't sure if I'd ever play again. So the last thing I wanted to do was play with someone who was whining. All golfers moan and groan, but I didn't want to hear any of that. If I did, I might take 'em out."

Having a tee ball come to rest in a divot, getting a "fried egg" in a bunker, having a putt lip out — they're all so insignificant in comparison with what Johnson has been facing.

But you won't hear him moan and groan about his plight.

"His attitude," Dave Johnson said, "is amazing. He'll find the bright spot in any situation. He was like a kid in a candy store out there today, seeing all his buddies."

Johnson always has been a people person.

He's spent his life in the golf business, working for years for Golfers Warehouse and, more recently, for Dick's Sporting Goods, at their store in Natick, Mass.

He enjoys fitting players with the proper equipment, and has been known to give impromptu tips to people he's met on the course, or at the range.

"He's the kind of person," Dave Johnson said, "who, out of the blue, would help anybody. That's the thing with Tommy — he'd get high on giving lessons. He'd get a thrill out of the first time a beginner got a ball airborne."

Tom could give even better life lessons than golf lessons.

Because golf has been Tom's life, his best friends in life are golfers. It's a sport, he firmly believes, that reveals character.

"If you're a jerk on the golf course," he said, "you're a jerk in life."

Since his surgery, Tom has learned he has more friends than he'd ever dreamed.

His medical expenses have been staggering. To help defray the cost, his friends recently staged a fundraiser.

It was supposed to have been a surprise, said Tom, "but my mother is even worse at keeping a secret than I am."

His mother, Carolyn, is 77.

"But you'd think she's 60," Tom said. "She's the greatest person in my life. She's been phenomenal. She drove me every day to my radiation treatments."

She also drove him to the fundraiser, where Johnson's friends had assembled from throughout New England, and even as far away as Texas.

"Every person there, I met through golf," he said. "In the economic times we're in, with everybody struggling, I can't express what it means to me to have people doing all they've done for me.

"What those guys did — it still makes me emotional," Johnson said, his feelings evident in his voice. "To know people care about you is the greatest thing in the world.

"I want to live another 30 years. But if I die tomorrow, I'll be happy."