Last Sunday night Glen, 95, and his wife Ardith, 89, settled into their living room chairs in their Springville home and watched their son, Wes Ruff, do his final sports show on ABC4.
It was kind of tough, this solemn goodbye, this final show after 41 years. The TV station went out of its way to send Wes off with flare. There were clips, some fun joking, lots of smiles.
“They did a tremendous job,” said Ardith.
It hit Glen particularly hard. “They’ll regret the day they let him go out the door,” said Glen, citing Wes still had a lot to give, miles and miles in his tank. “They don’t know what they had.”
Ardith says she’s watched 95% of his sportscasts over 41 years.
“Because he’s my boy.”
Glen says he watched Wes on the 5 o’clock sportscast, but was in bed at 10.
“If the world caught on fire, I’ll fix it in the morning. I’m in bed at 10,” he said.
What that Sunday night farewell did do was take a sports personality off the local network air who had dedicated his career to giving golf a voice. A local TV sports personality does not exist that will fill this void in the golf community. Ruff was omnipresent in his Utah golf coverage, his love for the game was enormous, as is his fat Rolodex of sources.
From his “Beat the Pro” segment of traveling around the state gathering par 3 players to challenge the local pros, to acting as emcee for award shows, galas, dinners, and tournament trophy presentations, Ruff has chronicled golf’s winners and losers for decades.
As an emcee, he stood up to the mic and on demand, shifted into part comic and part sports historian/storyteller without a blink or a stutter.
His deliveries are elite. Thus, the callbacks.
Time and time again, I’ve sat with Ruff at a banquet and he’s barely raised a fork to his mouth before it was time to leave his chair and go to the podium. Almost every time his written script, which was approved by the organization that asked him to emcee, was rewritten or edited from the time he walked in the door to when he stood at the mic. And every time he returned to the table, his food was cold or the plate was taken away.
Randy Dodson, publisher and president of Fairways Media, said, “Wesley Ruff’s retirement marks the end of an era for Utah sports broadcasting, especially for Utah golf.
“For more than four decades, he gave local golf a consistent presence on television, telling the stories of players, PGA professionals, junior golfers, championships and the people who have helped grow the game. Wesley’s long-term commitment to Utah golf was truly unique. His passion for the game and the relationships he built earned the trust and respect of Utah’s golf community. While his departure leaves a significant void in local golf coverage, I’m grateful he’s bringing that same passion and storytelling to the work we’re doing at Fairways Media.”
The game is golf
A single-digit handicap golfer, Ruff’s love for the game is epic, a passion that came over him as a kid and still washes over his soul.
Two days after his Sunday retirement show on TV, he stood on the No. 2 tee box at the Primo Provo Open at Timpanogos Golf Club, a par-3, 145-yard hole from the whites.
He took out too much club, an 8-iron, so he backed up a few steps and swung at his Titleist ProVI. He loved the flight, the direction, but he never saw it land.
Approaching the green with his group, he wondered if the ball went over the green. But the group’s professional, Roy Christiansen, walked over to the pin, looked down and there was Ruff’s ball at the bottom of the cup. Christiansen raised both his arms, signalling touchdown.
It was Ruff’s second hole-in-one in his life. And he went nuts. He called his friends, he called the station, he called his brother and his parents. He wasn’t worth much for a few holes, and his team needed him.
His father, Glen was both happy and ticked. “I always held it over him that I’ve had two and he had just one. Well, that’s gone to hell now. I can’t hold it over him.”
Just 48 hours into retirement and Wes Ruff dunked one.
That’s a story.
Ruff has a consistent golf swing. He hits it long and straight. He rarely misses a fairway and his iron play is upper level. His short game, honed by hours of practice chipping behind the TV station when there’s a lag in his shift, keeps his scores low. He never goes for it in two on par 5s but strategizes to hit his second shot to his sweet spot of 100 yards out. From there, he places the ball in birdie range where a miss is tap-in par.
Former Springville High School teammate Steve Frahm remembers a match with Pleasant Grove High at Hobble Creek back in the day when Wes was in the final group and having a rough time, on pace to shoot 50 for nine holes. His teammates were encouraging him to make a par on the final hole for a win. Nobody actually knew what the score was.
His coach, Pete Roundy, was waiting on the green of No. 9. Ruff hit a good drive and solid approach shot and was putting for a birdie. “Come on, Wes, you can do this. We can get a win,” said Roundy. “Wes got over it and he knocked it into the parking lot. He immediately looked over at the coach and said, ‘I swear it was going to break that way.”’
Ruff was always looking for a laugh.
“Everybody liked Wes. But he always felt a little awkward,” said Frahm.
“He never thought of himself as a star, even through he was captain. He and I were good friends, played golf together, went on double dates and he was always a good friend to me. Even now, after all the things he’s done, he doesn’t really think he’s done all that in the community. In that regard, he’s never changed. He’s always looking for ways to make a difference because he feels inside that he has not done that,” said Frahm.
Celebrity circuit
While Ruff doesn’t see himself as a celebrity, if your face is on TV for 41 years, it’s your fate. Traveling around the state and golfing courses from Logan to St. George, he might not acknowledge it, but the proof is in the impossibility of hiding.
At an Alpine Country Club tournament, we drove our cart into the shade by the restroom junction on the back nine where senior club women are doling out smoothies. “There’s Wes Ruff,” says one. “Yeah, it’s him,” another giggled. It then became picture time.
At a hole in the wall Mexican restaurant in Hurricane at 8 p.m., a young woman recognizes Wes from way back at SUU and it’s kiss on the cheek and selfie time. The rest of his foursome watch in amazement.
It’s like that all the time, from a Maverik gas station bathroom break line to the signup table at a golf tournament. They come out of the sidewalk and patios from Scotland to Scipio. “Hey, you’re Wes Ruff.”
Yes, he is.
One person who understands this TV anchor celebrity is former KSL sports anchor and current Utah Jazz broadcaster Craig Bolerjack. Ruff and Bolerjack have careers that parallel each other. They bonded while traveling and covering BYU, Utah, the Jazz, covering NBA Finals and the NCAA Final Four.
A quick 24-hour playoff game in Los Angeles between the Jazz and Clippers turned into a week during the L.A. Riots in 1992. There were no airline flights, no restaurants open and even the hotel had limited food to be served.
Covering the scene with cameras and lights outside, there were bullets flying around Ruff, Bolerjack and their cameramen. A hovering helicopter pilot blared over a loudspeaker for them to turn off their lights and get off the sidewalks. Ruff was wearing a flak jacket and believes he was shot at for it.
“He’s like a brother, honestly,” said Bolerjack. “I’ve got to be honest, anyone who does 41 years at the same station in the same market is uber special. It’s an incredible run.
“We kind of bonded. We experienced so much together over the years. Every time I turned around there was Wes and every time he turned around I was there. We were competitors, but helped each other. He’s a pro’s pro, and we’re losing that these days.”
Another anchor, Marius Payton, credits Ruff for giving him a shot in the business at ABC4.
“Wesley has been someone in my life who believed in me, challenged me and wanted to see me succeed,” Payton said by text message. “He gave me an opportunity to have a career in television after meeting me while I was waiting tables at a restaurant in Midvale. 31 years later, I’m still working in television and living a dream that would have never happened without him.
“That day started a three decades old friendship that has never lost a step. I have had highs and I have had lows, and Wesley has always been there to give me a pat on the back or a helping hand to get back up. He started as my mentor, but that relationship quickly turned into something more special. Wesley is family to me, and I wish him nothing but success in this new chapter of his life. I love that guy. He taught me television and he taught me how to golf! He’s a better television teacher than a golf teacher. I still suck at golf. I could never repay Wesley for what he’s given me, and he would never ask me to.”
His sister, Ann Steele, describes her brother as the same person, regardless. “He’s genuine. The person that you see on TV is the person that we know. He’s not fake. He doesn’t do anything for show. He cares.”
His dad put it succinctly, “He’s a people person. He loves people. I don’t know where he got that, because he sure as hell didn’t get it from me. I think most people aren’t worth (expletive).
“He gets to know these professional athletes and he respects them and they respect him back. He’s not awed by them by any means, but he respects them and they treat him the same way back.”
In a world where ego-driven keyboard warriors churn out more and more negative social media, Ruff is a searchlight in this dark desert; a saccharine burst of positivity in a world gone mad.
He often comes to a golf round with a box of Ding Dongs. He loves sweets. I started calling them Satan’s Biscuits. “Here’s Wes with his Satan’s Biscuits,” and I’d down a quick two. If it’s not that, it’s a bag of cookies or banana bread.
“He’s a good kid,” said his mother. “He’ll do anything for you. I mean he has a lot of friends. He’s met a lot of personalities and he’s become friends with them, not just acquaintances, but friends. He’s always driven to be the best at what he does. He’s always been that way. He’s never wanted to quit on anything.”
Did he ever get in trouble — even a tiny little bit as a kid?
“No,” said Ardith, “because I would have killed him.”
A man without guile
A road trip around the state with Wes Ruff is filled with Elton John music, storytelling, philosophy and editorial opinions that never will make it into print or on the air.
As miles pile up, so do the tales, the memories, and shifting topics. Ruff and I have hit I-15 South many times, most recently to cover and play in the Friendship Cup at Sand Hollow were local Utahns play against golfers from Scotland. And yes, Wes is the emcee of the annual Friendship Cup Gala dinner.
In a poignant moment between Scipio and Cedar City, Wes shared how he watched his first wife Val slowly and painfully die from cancer. He described how the mother of his children, so full of life, hope and dreams, just faded away. He recalled the day it was over.
On every trip he finds a way to call his current wife Sue, to report on the day and ask about hers. He calls Glen and Ardith or Ann and tells them the story of the day, a play of the day or personality he ran into. He tells all of them he loves them and says goodbye as I sit in the passenger or driver’s seat, depending on what car we take.
Wes Ruff can’t get enough of people. It fuels him, energizes him. Relationships are his addiction, he can’t get enough of friends and what they mean. Same with his family. I’ve stood in swag lines at golf tournaments where he’s received a coupon to shop in a tent and he’s always thinking of getting something for his brother Slim, or his son or daughter.
There’s a charm to this kind of life, that it masks whatever might be bugging you inside. Ruff has found a way to let love and giving lift him above what wrenches and bumps have come his way.
It’s his way.
There’s a lesson here for all of us. Losing ourselves in the orbit of others, we can find what really counts in ourselves.
In a month of making the radio, TV and print circuit, talking of his career and retirement, Wes is positive and grateful and acknowledges his supreme luck in finding a job that was always like going out to play.
On Wednesday, at a park in Herriman, some close friends and family members gathered to honor him. One of those was comedian and entertainer Jason Hewlett who volunteered to do a routine with some songs and impressions. He had Glen and Ardith slapping their knees and laughing hard.
“Wes Ruff is one of the best people I know,” said Hewlett. “It’s an honor to have known him and I wish him well.”
In the television business, it’s always about ratings. And local stations in Salt Lake City have spent millions shipping in outside talent to anchor news, sports and weather. Few, if any, are homegrown like former Springville Devil Wes Ruff, a local talent that stayed in the market for four decades. Only former KSL news anchor Dick Nourse (43 years) lasted longer in this market.
Reflecting on his hole-in-one at Timpanogos on Tuesday, it was kind of a defining moment for those with Ruff. Seeing him immediately go off to the side and start calling folks with the news was, well, what a newsman does.
Retire easily and land soft, Mr. Ruff.
Thanks, Wes, for doing sports the right way, with passion, professionalism, and care.
