Golf is not a sport for the faint of heart. Nor is it a pastime for the weak of wallet, or for the uncoordinated. There's a very good reason why golf is a four-letter word. Still, playing golf is a great opportunity to revel in the great outdoors, see some incredible scenery, and socialize with friends and business associates.
I took up golf relatively late in life; I was 31 the first time I held a seven-iron. A coworker invited me. At the time I had no idea how much I had to learn. My friend was a marginal, though enthusiastic golfer. He also liked to consume fermented beverages continuously while golfing. When you add together his lack of talent and propensity for drinking, you can understand my slow initial progress at mastering the game.
The fact that I'm not a natural athlete didn't help much, either.
There are over one million guides to better golfing available in print, online, and on video. (I just made that up - I'm sure there are far more than a million.) Each time a golfer seeks help from one of these sources, or from a golfing buddy, he or she compounds the errors already established with new ones. "Head down," "bend your knees," "close down the clubface," "modify the geometry of your initial stance based upon the club selection while visualizing the shot, based on the terrain." Yeah, right.
The best golfers don't need any direction. It just comes naturally. Unfortunately, nothing about golf comes naturally to me. (Well, driving the golf cart is fun and easy, but that doesn't really count.) Why then, you may ask, do PGA Tour professionals have coaches? To help them cast off all other helpful advice they have accidentally absorbed, of course.
I did all the right things.
I played consistently, every week for three full summer seasons. "Regular practice will improve your performance." Actually, it simply reinforces your existing bad habits.
I joined a league with friends. We played every Thursday evening for about 12 weeks each summer. "Social encouragement will relax you and improve your approach to the game." I was voted "most potential for improvement" in the year-end banquet.
I took lessons. Yup, I paid for someone to give me valuable golf advice and coaching. This is highly recommended for novice players who show little initial improvement. The idea is to unlearn the bad things you're doing, and start fresh. "An objective instructor can properly assess your swing, and help you make necessary changes." I learned that I'm not a good student.
I signed up for company tournaments and charitable events. The beauty of most tournaments is that you work together as a four-man team. You don't have to rely strictly on your own talent, or lack thereof, to win. I believe the format is called "scramble." All four players tee off; then you choose the best shot and continue. Or maybe that's called "best ball." I've never been clear about that.
Tournament play was the answer, regardless of which term is correct. The key is to assemble a really good team, so that the weakest player (me) is shielded by the more talented golfers. Hit a bad shot and lost your ball? Doesn't matter. One of the other three is sure to hit that little white ball well enough to cover for you.
One of the typical rules in this format is that you can't simply ignore EVERY shot made by any one team member. Sooner or later, my team had to rely on one of my feeble efforts. That wasn't so bad. I usually managed one or two good swings out of a hundred.
There came a day when I hit a ball off the tee that was so good, so amazing, that there could be no doubt that mine was the chosen shot for the group. Here's what happened.
We had put together a fine foursome: two excellent golfers (one a former Major League ballplayer!), one very good player - and me! The Saturday tournament was for charity, a church school fundraiser. The weather was perfect, and the turnout was fantastic.
The course was long and demanding. Accuracy was crucial, but so was distance off the tee. My teammates took turns hitting splendid shots. I lost a few balls and helped make a couple putts. The former baseball pro was so talented that we all knew we had a chance to win the whole tournament.
Charity golf events often offer big prizes to lure in more players. They sometimes choose one hole, a par three, where you can win a car if you hit a hole-in-one. Our team arrived at the "Cadillac Hole" for the church tourney. There was no thought at all in my mind of winning that fancy automobile.
The hole was reachable, maybe 170 yards or so. I watched my teammates strike their tee-shots one by one. Each hit well, but no one came close to earning the Caddy. I went last.
The real trick is to relax, to clear your mind. This is easier said than done, but I did it. I knew I wasn't going to win the car, and we already had a couple of very good shots on the green. I smiled and teed-up the ball. Took a soft practice swing with my chosen club. Stepped forward, addressed the ball, and made one of those perfect swings that natural athletes achieve so easily. I didn't look up until long after my ball was airborne. My shot arced directly toward the hole.
My teammates started jumping and yelling, "You made a hole-in-one!" They weren't kidding.
My ball was GONE. We could see the green clearly. We could see the other three balls on or near the green. But mine was simply gone. I let myself believe it for a minute or two. I had made a hole-in-one! I had won the car!
I didn't win the car.
What we didn't know was that the green had a gentle rise in the middle. As we trotted to the hole to retrieve my winning ball from the cup, still whooping and hollering, the rest of that green came into view. And there was my ball - about three feet from the cup, perfectly on a line from the tee to the hole. But not IN the hole. No car for me.
"But it was an awesome shot!" They all assured me. They pounded my back and laughed and yelled some more. I smiled and blushed, and had to admit to myself that it was indeed an incredible shot.
We chose my tee-shot for the team, and easily birdied the hole. I was walking on air. I never hit anything else impressive after that one great shot; but we did win the tournament.
And for those few minutes, on that one day, golf was the coolest game I'd ever played.