Last Tuesday I was fortunate enough to play golf again with my Dad and Terry at Southwyck, our default home course. For some background, I grew up playing golf. In high school I played just about every day. I was the number 1 player on my high school's team my junior and senior years. That is not saying too much, the rest of the team was not very good. I played in a few tournaments all over the country, but was never in contention to win. In college, I walked on at Texas Tech and the University of North Texas. I did not travel with the team to any events. I qualified for a couple of tournaments but did not go for various reasons. At Texas, I tried out for the team but did not make the team. I came within a missed two foot putt to quality for the US Amateur. All of that to say that I have played a lot of golf and have played at a reasonably high level. That means that I still have very high expectations.
I do not play nearly as often as I did in high school or college, but I still think that I should play as well. Now, I have a wonderful family to support. So, I had to get a real job. The last two months I have played more often than I have in years. This has been fun, but it has also raised my expectations. I expect to play as well as I did in college. That brings us to last Tuesday. The round started off well enough with two easy pars and a good drive on number 3. I rushed my second shot on number 3 and hit it to the right into some deep grass. I was unable to find my ball. Double bogey. No big deal. One bad shot, you move on. Not me. I did not freak out and throw things or scream, but inside I was ready to break something. Over one bad golf shot. Just crazy. This same attitude is what hurt me when I played competitively. I would let one bad shot turn into 4 bad holes. That is exactly what I did on this day. I did not recover until hole number 8. By that time I was 7 over par. Once I settled down and told myself that I did not care any longer, I played fine. From 8 through 18, I was one under par. I can still play a little bit when I have the right mental outlook. Now I just have to figure out how to not let the bad shots get to me. I get upset at places other than the golf course. But nothing sets me off like a bad shot. It is hard to describe. I immediately feel this rage inside of me. I can not think of another situation that I face regularly when I have the same feeling. In an effort to get some help, I bought a golf psychology book last year. It is called Zen Golf and yes, it does have some crazy easter religion aspects to it. But, not to worry, I am not going to being Buddhist any time soon. I bought the book in audio format and listened to the first couple of chapters last summer. They actually seemed to help. I started playing a little better and the bad shots did not bother me as much. Then I started to play a little less due to the time of year and stopped listening to the book. I think that it might be past time for me to break out the book and finish it. I hate the way that I react to bad shots. I am embarrassed and frustrated by the way I allow the bad shots to affect me. Hopefully, with some discipline, I will be able to break this terrible habit. I hope so. It stinks to pay good money to go play, only to be mad part of the time. I also want to enjoy the time that I am able to be out playing with friends and my Dad. Maybe I need so accountability? Dad, Terry, Mike, the next time that you see me acting like a spoiled 4 year old, call me out on it. Thanks.
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