Does any of
this sound familiar?
I learned
the game from an amateur champion who took the game up when she was 27, then on
a dare from her husband that she could not attain a 3 handicap, practiced until
her hands bled, and accomplished her goal.
So I have always felt motivated to practice, and have seen its direct
correlation to success in shot-making and scoring.
Although, as
previously stated, I was not a kid (chronologically or physically) when I
started playing, and had an inherent schedule conflict with every plan to
practice or play, nothing prevented me from falling in love with the game.
Why? Because each time I tee off on 1, I am filled
with an inner peace that I cannot find elsewhere. My love for the outdoors and for all the
beauty of nature is never more heightened than when I am enjoying a round of
golf. Yes, I admit that being on lawns
that someone else has mowed, and walking past tiny patches of “ground under
repair” without a shred of personal responsibility may contribute to my
euphoria. I contend, though, that it’s
more than that.
If I did
not experience the sublime when I played golf, what might I do when the demons
inside and outside my head, and in total possession of my arms, hands and body
got the better of me and began to systematically unravel what I thought was “my
game?” What would my Type A personality do
then? How would I ever be able, during
that round from Hell when the disconnect between my capabilities and my
execution becomes a chasm of chaos, to walk by so many ponds, lakes, streams
and fluffy bunkers without throwing myself, or at least my clubs, in?
Am I
alone? Anyone with me in this labyrinth
of agony and ecstasy? Ah, yes, I see
your heads nodding. You too are in the
web of this love-hate affair that sticks like some kind of psychic
fly-paper.
Well,
brothers and sisters of the links, please know that WE are not alone.
Let’s
welcome in our friends at the National Golf Foundation to summarize the results
of their 2009 study.
Folks Like Us Who
Call Themselves “Players”
2000 28.8 million
2005 30 million
2007 29.5 million
2009 28.6 million
Reason for Decline in the
Recent Past
Due to the struggling
economy, many golfers are playing less or not at all.
Any
Newcomers?
2008 1.7 million new golfers AND another 2.3 million who started
playing again after not playing the year before.
Golf Economics
2008 $76 billion dollars was
spent on the game
So, there
it is. The folks who no longer show up
for our Saturday group are held back not because they lost their verve for our
game – it’s their wallets that are keeping them off the links. And our overall numbers aren’t plummeting, so
out with the old, in with the new. As old
golf friends cycle out of the clan, we can welcome in a fresh batch at the turnstile. We
will share our Spring ritual with our new golf friends as together we polish
our golf shoes, replace our worn soft spikes, and re-stock our bags with the
new gloves, balls, and tees we just purchased.
Let’s
choose an anthem to give voice to our sunny Spring golf mood. Raise a bottle of Gatorade and join me, won’t
you? What lyrical themes resonate with you?
For
those of us who are lovers of (or just plain remember) the old show tunes:
Cockeyed Optimist
from South Pacific
“I could say life is just a bowl of
Jello, and appear more intelligent and smart; but I'm stuck like a dope with a
thing called hope, and I can't get it out of my heart!”
Whistle a Happy
Tune
“While
shivering in my shoes, I strike a careless pose, and whistle a happy tune, and
no one even knows I’m afraid”
Or for those whose musical preferences run more to
the current day:
Sheryl Crow – Out of Our Heads
“get out of our heads and into our hearts.”
Switchfoot – Dare You to Move
“Welcome
to the resistance, the tension is here, between who you are and who you could
be; between how it is and how it should be.”
Whatever
comes out of your heart and mouth as the spirit moves you, be assured that the
same heart and mouth will run the gamut of emotions and expletives in every
round you play. In fact, I can even run
almost that same range of feelings when I practice for an hour or so!
“What
a magnificent…/ what the heck was that bump in the green/ do I hear a whippoorwill?/
get out of my line when I’m putting!/ did you see the blossoms on that…/ are
they ever going to mow this rough?!/ these azaleas remind me of Augusta/ why do
I have to land in a divot that some son of a @#$ didn’t replace?!/ Ooh, look…
the Canada Geese are back/ those $##@ birds leave their $%^ all over the green…
can’t they get rid of them?!”
Once again,
I welcome you all to our little game of joy and perplexity. Oh yes, and please do check your pride card
at the door, as the humiliation you will feel when you shank a 7 iron to within
10 inches of decapitating your cartmate will leave you exposed with nowhere to
run to, and nowhere to hide.
And your
self-esteem? Unless you can take the
term “long slice” and capitalize on long, ignoring slice, you will berate
yourself until you’re inwardly feeling lower than a snake’s belly in a wagon
rut.
Your prowess
earned on the practice tee after 30 minutes of flawless shots from wedge to
driver? Watch it, pal… remember the
adage “the longest drive is from the practice area to the first tee” was
hatched from hard, frustrating experience.
Now that
I’ve mentioned the word ‘frustrating,’ I really cannot count the number of ways
this little gnat will crawl under your skin.
Putts that curl around the edge and back out? Frustrating. Chips rolling along toward their targets that
hit an unrepaired ball mark and veer off? FRUSTRATING. Fairway shots that take bad hops into the
rough (and below ‘see-level’)?
FRUSTRATING!!
So let’s
take the most optimistic path as our mindset.
And let’s avoid the descriptive minefields along the way. When we say “will all my shots be perfect?” there’s the minefield… that passive
tense thing. The passive “will all my shots be perfect”
should be restated as “will I hit all my shots perfectly?” And the answer, of course, is “Not a chance.” “Will every club in my bag provide a
consistent shot?” is most assuredly better replaced with “will I execute perfect
shots with every club?” And, once again, we know that answer is “no.”
If we
sincerely want to adopt a positive, optimistic mindset, let’s not stop at putting
aside the passive tense. Let’s also stop externalizing fault for everything bad
that happens. “I can’t play in the wind.” “The terrain is so wet from all the rain we’ve
had.” “The sun is blinding me.” The birds are chirping so loud they distract
me.” HEY! This is an outside game!! If you like long manicured pathways but
prefer no wind, rain, bright sun or bird noise, take up bowling, for Pete’s
sake!!
Finally,
there’s the personification of the golf ball.
Please, fellow hackers, stop with this one, okay? As we approach our round, let’s promise to ditch
the “come on, ball, give me a good bounce!”
and replace it with “I got a bad bounce.” Let’s not decry “my ball is
sitting in a hole and gives me no chance” but rather “will I execute this shot
despite the tough lie?”
Now I watch
golf, just like the rest of you. I
realize that when Mickelson stands over a tough lie and miss-hits the shot, the
golf analysts don’t say “Phil miss-hit that shot.” Oh, no.
They say “that ball came out hot.”
Even as the camera angle zooms in on the ball that the pro is
approaching, the audience hears “Phil has a squirter lie.” But when we watch PGA events and think about these
professionals trying to live up to the expectations we place upon them, we need
to separate that world from ours.
Really.
I urge each
of us who seeks the positive path in golf, then, to man- (or woman-) up and
take the pledge to use the active tense only… in good times and in bad. Just as we earn the right to say “I pulled
off a great shot,” we also must suffer the responsibility of a ‘lousy lie’ by
saying “I missed that one.” Then, back
on our most optimistic path again, we can fully enjoy the game we all love for
the 80% of the round when we are breathing fresh air in nature’s showcase and
chatting and laughing with our buddies.
Yes, we will undoubtedly hate the game we all hate for the 20% of the
round when we have those frustrating, disappointing, or infuriating moments of
bad luck, bad choices, or bad shots, but then we can always employ what we are
certain the golf gods employ when they watch us shoot 100+ and still return for
another round… laughter.
So I’ll see
you on the first tee soon. Let’s be
ready with a good night’s rest, the right clothing for the forecast, all the
gear and paraphernalia into which we’ve poured our Spring fun money, and a
positive and optimistic attitude. Let’s
commit that the best part of our game will be our attitude. And let’s expect, fully and absolutely, that our
90 or so strokes will be mostly imperfect.
Never
forget, though, that it’s that one shot… that one glorious, click off the
clubface shot… that soaring, perfect-trajectory missile of a shot… that, even
if it waits until the 18th hole to show up, will etch in our memory
and bring us back again.
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