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It’s been almost a year since I’ve seen Stan, my sometimes student who regularly promises to take lessons more than once a year and to actually practice what we work on. The last time Stan paid a visit he was in his usual funk, unable to progress and questioning his desire to keep pounding away at such an elusive game. I usually spend much of my time with Stan discussing the game in general, the whys and wherefores of how and why we continue to try and get better even when all our best efforts lead to little, if any, progress. I continue to stress the attributes of discipline and dedication, suggesting that any sort of consistent practice would be a great help in his efforts to become a decent player.
We ended out last foray together with me encouraging Stan to enter a tournament. I wanted it to be an individual event, rather than a best-ball or a scramble, so that he would feel what it was like to play under pressure with no one else to depend on to rescue him from his various miscues.
Stan: You want me to play in a tournament? What, are you nuts? I’m not good enough for that.
Wayne: How do you know how good you are unless you test out your game a little? It’ll be good for you. You’ll find out right away what you need to work on.
Stan: But I already know I need to work on everything. I mean, come on: I shoot in the 90’s. I’m not very good.
Wayne: I know, but the idea is for you to get better. You keep telling me that it’s a big deal for you to improve and become a decent player. It’s my job to tell you how you can best go about doing that. I really believe that playing under pressure makes you a better player if you look at it the right way.
Stan: Well, I’m looking at it, and I don’t like it. It makes me want to throw up.
Wayne: Exactly. Look, what is it that lets you know you’re actually improving?
Stan: I don’t know, better scores, I guess.
Wayne: That’s right, better scores. It’s one thing to shoot a better score with nothing on the line, but if you do it in a tournament it really means something. There’s nothing like coming through when you’re nervous. And when it’s all over with, which it inevitably will be, you have a record of how you performed, and that will give you a good idea about how to focus your practice so that you can do better the next time.
Stan: It does make some sense, but I’ve never played in anything at my club. I would hate to embarrass myself.
Wayne: What a perfect way to encourage yourself to practice! Fear of embarrassment. What a concept.
Stan: I know, I know, I should want to practice. And you know I do, I just can’t seem to find the time.
Wayne: You know I have no patience for that kind of excuse. If you’re not going to make the effort, then don’t talk to me about how much it all means to you and how big a deal it is for you to be a good golfer. You can’t just talk the talk; you have to walk the walk. I get so tired of lecturing you. You need to make up your mind and do what it takes if that’s what you really want.
Stan: You’re right, you’re right. OK, I’ll sign up for a couple of tournaments at the club. We have a handicap stroke play club championship. I’ll try it, then I’ll come back to see you after.
So here it is many months later, and Stan is back in the book. I can’t wait to hear about the start of his tournament career.
Wayne: What’s up, Stan? Do you have any trophies to show me?
Stan: Very funny.
Wayne: So you didn’t win. Did you at least play?
Stan: Oh, yeah, I played. And I cursed you more than a few times, let me tell you.
Wayne: Had a few butterflies, did you?
Stan: You could call it that. I was fine until I got to the first tee. I didn’t think it would be any problem. I read Bob Rotini’s book the night before, you know, “It’s Not a Perfect Game”. It sounded great. I wasn’t going to put any pressure on myself, just focus on the target and swing. It was all going to be about going through my routine, not having great expectations, trying to relax, just have fun! Yeah, right. That all lasted until I had to hit my first drive. My heart was pounding so hard I felt dizzy. I thought I was going to puke. And it was the club handicap stroke play championship. I couldn’t believe it.
Wayne: Kind of makes you want to reconsider all the times you yell “choker” at the TV when a pro misses a putt or hits a bad shot, huh?
Stan: You can say that again.
Wayne: So, what happened? Did you hit a decent shot?
Stan: I was hyperventilating, so I took a few deep breaths, and then tried to remember what my so-called “routine” was, and before I knew it the club had hit the ball and it was over with. I don’t even remember swinging, much less how I swung. I was just thankful that I didn’t whiff it. I practiced as hard as I ever have to get ready to play, but I guess I didn’t go about it the right way. Do you think I should have practiced differently leading up to the tournament?
Wayne: That’s a great question, and the answer is “yes, absolutely”. When I am working on my game with no competition in the near future I like to work on improving specific flaws in my game, especially in my swing. I use the video a lot and do lots of drills. I experiment with different combinations of swing thoughts, and I try to exaggerate positions and movements to help me change grooved-in habits. As the tournament approaches, however, I will stop most of the specific work and focus more on what I will be doing when I’m out on the course. So, at the range I am hitting more full shots, and I am working with either my full routine or at least most of it, eliminating the beginning where I walk back behind the ball to survey the shot. I want to use the exact procedure that I will incorporate when I walk to the first tee and peg it up. The routine is a big key in allaying the nervousness I always feel, and if I have been using it consistently on the range and on the course I have a lot of repetitions under my belt. I also like to get out on the course the days before the tournament. I find that playing is the best way to get ready to play, even if I’m hitting 2 or 3 shots off the tee or from the fairway. This is the most realistic practice, and if I hit some good shots I’ll have a better feeling about how I might play when the real thing begins. I am putting together all the work I have been doing and what comes of it is “my game” for that week. There is a time to tinker, and a time to test out what you’ve got. I try my best to stick to the things I’ve been working on once I’m out on the course, unless nothing is going right and I have to reboot to some previous thoughts. You should always try your best to be patient with your game and not be too quick to jump into different swing thoughts, although often that is not the easiest thing to do.
So, you got that first shot off, then you were walking down the first fairway, and I bet you felt better after that, right?
Stan: Yeah, I guess. Nothing was quite like that first drive, but I never felt totally comfortable out there. In fact, just there on the first green I had an 18 inch putt, and my heart was pounding almost as hard as it was on the tee! I mean, we give those putts in my regular group, and here I was terrified that I might miss it. What is that all about?
Wayne: Does that tell you something about “gimmes”? There is no such thing. People who don’t putt everything out when they play are at a huge disadvantage when it comes time actually keep score. Any putt can be missed. And there is no limit on how many putts you can take on a given hole.
Stan: Sounds like you heard about my 5-putt.
Wayne: I bet you rarely have a 3-putt when you’re playing “gimmes”.
Stan: You’re right. I never thought it was such a bad idea. It seemed to speed up play, and nobody gets too upset.
Wayne: That’s fine, but it’s not golf.
Stan: Well, now I know better. Anyway, I actually made a decent bogey on the first hole, but after that I never hit a solid shot. I got it around, but I couldn’t make a good swing. It’s unbelievable to me. I was such a good athlete when I was a kid.
Wayne: You were?
Stan: Oh, yeah. I was always the first one picked. Kickball, dodge ball, jacks, bowling, I was The Man. Now I just feel so uncoordinated. Golf is too damned hard.
Wayne: Not to say “I told you so” or anything, but I told you so. If you’re not a natural at this game you simply have to practice. And if you don’t like to practice you can’t expect to ever be any good. There are so few of those “freaks” who are good without knowing what they are doing or without working especially hard, and most of them are on television playing for lots of money. Most everyone else is terrible by degrees, and we all have to struggle to achieve any sort of progression. Just go to any driving range and what do you see? You see a bunch of awful golfers, most of whom have no idea what they are working on. You may not know it, but you come to me for direction, not for secrets or miracles. I’ve told you a million times that there are no short-cuts, no band-aids, and that the “secret” is, like Hogan said, “in the dirt”. In order to own your game and to be able to take it out and put some heat on it without it imploding you have to be relentless in your efforts to get better. It doesn’t matter if you’re trying to get from a 25 handicap to a 15, or from a 5 to a scratch, or from the Hooters Tour to the PGA Tour.
Stan: I’ve always heard you when you say all that stuff, but I’ve never really listened. But after competing I think I know what you mean. You have to know what you’re doing out there if you want to score. I couldn’t remember a lot of those short game shots we went over, and sure enough, every time I turned around I was facing another one. I remember you telling me to take notes, and that repetition would give me more feel for distance, but I never followed your advice. I’ll never break 100 for real if I don’t start doing some of this stuff.
Wayne: You know, if you really love the game, how can you not love what will make you good at it? I love to practice, and I want to practice everything I need to make me better. I wanted to get you to play in competition because I thought it might be a wake-up call. It’s easy to talk about the game; it’s even easy to teach it. Theories are easy to come up with. It’s hard to play the game. It’s harder when it means something.
Stan: I have a library of videos and a garage full of swing gizmos. They all sounded great on TV.
Wayne: It’s hard to resist when someone promises to make the game “easy”, or “simple”, or tells you that they have the “secret”. And the productions of these infomercials are fantastic. If I didn’t know better I’d probably buy a couple of them myself. I use some of the swing aids when I teach, but I know what specific flaws they are good for. Buying them to make you better in a general sense just doesn’t work. There will always be a certain number of people the gizmo is perfect for, but the sale is that it will make everyone better immediately. Videos may or may not have good information in them, but you can’t ask a video a question, and you can’t get any feedback.
Stan: The last video I bought said it had the “secret” of golf.
Wayne: And?
Stan: Well, in three hours I figured out that the “secret” was closing the face at impact. He did some great card tricks, though, at least the ones I saw before I fell asleep. Say, why don’t you do a video?
Wayne: Me? If I’m not teaching I’d rather practice.
Stan: You could make some serious money. I heard that Schmalaski guy made $25 million.
Wayne: Who?
Stan: You know, the Schmalaski Swing Magic. Remember that club where your right hand slid up and down the shaft? I bought one.
Wayne: That’s a surprise. When was the last time you saw one of those at a range?
Stan: Now that you mention it, not recently.
Wayne: Look, it’s a hard game, and it’s hard to resist the lure of quick and easy progress. Unfortunately, it just doesn’t work that way. I once was on an infomercial to endorse a swing aid that I actually used when I taught.
Stan: How did it do? Did it make money?
Wayne: No, as a matter of fact it bombed. It was an excellent product, but it wasn’t easily “sellable”. You had to think about how you were supposed to use it, and that is not what the majority of people want. It’s a thinking man’s game, but nobody wants to think.
Stan: I used to hate to think. Listen, I’m starting to buy what you’re selling here. If I don’t become more dedicated I’ve got no chance. I’m going to come to see you every few months for some direction; then I’m going to practice what we work on. After that I’m going to play in some events to test my progress; then just keep the process going.
Wayne: Are you sure you’re feeling all right? You’re scaring me. No, I’m kidding. That sounds great Stan. I would love to see you become a better player. With that mindset I really think you have a chance.