Preserving One’s Dignity on the Golf Course
Golfers are a funny old breed. For the majority of us, I suspect we live (on the course at least) by the motto “I’d rather die trying than live and never know”. Knowing that to be true, it seems strange to me that we do so little to tilt the odds in our favour when it comes to preparation and equipment. Are we really using the most suitable tools for the job? Does our 80mph swing speed really necessitate the use of a ProV1? And do we prepare effectively for the round ahead? I would suggest the answer is a resounding no to all for the vast majority of us.
But I have a theory: I think it often boils down to ego. We fear the ridicule of our fellow golfers or the reluctant admission that we’re not as good as we like to think. And in golf, preserving one’s dignity is all part of the game – why else would we ever get nervous over an opening tee shot with a few people watching on? To my mind, our fear of embarrassment sits at the heart of so much that we get wrong and it extends to several guilty practices and cardinal sins. I’ve listed a few below, but I’m sure you’ll have other personal examples, too… I welcome your comments!
Redundant irons
Losing the ability to hit a 2 iron is something we can all deal with. You’ll forgive me for suggesting that since few of us ever had the ability to hit the blessed club in the first place (you’ll also notice how I didn’t even bother to mention the ‘1 iron’). But when it comes to the 3, 4, and, in some cases, 5 iron, not many of us are prepared to concede that we’re better off with something a little more befitting of our abilities. In the grand scheme of things, the hybrid club is a fairly recent concept but it’s been around long enough now to no longer be deemed “cheating”. And even the pros are using them! But still, the uncomfortable ratio of golf clubs to head covers means that far too many amateur golfers continue to carry long irons that they A) know they shouldn’t B) don’t hit because they know it’s doomed to failure C) probably don’t hit any further than their 6 iron D) allow to rust/weigh down their bag E)…… I could go through the entire alphabet. The point is, it’s time to let go and ditch the redundant long irons!
Looseners
The concept of ‘warming up’ is a foreign one to most amateur golfers. At best, it means a few minutes in the car with the heater on, a fry up, or (in extreme cases) a stiff drink! Yet we all still expect to stripe our opening tee shot and scratch our head bemused if it doesn’t quite go according to plan. There are a few odd balls out there who you’ll see on the range with a bucket of balls before teeing off, they’ll hit a few chips, bunker shots and even wander to the putting green. But seriously, what do the professionals know? I have even heard rumours of what can only be described as ‘polite stretching’ as a valuable prerequisite to good performance, but I’m sure that’s all hearsay. For the proud amateur, the link between ignoring any form of warm up and saving face is undoubtedly more important than the link between ignoring any form of warm up and a poor start and potential injury. Right?
NR
I’ll admit the ‘Nil Return’ or ‘No Return’ (or simply NR as it’s more commonly known) is something that gets on my wick. I’ll spare you my vented frustrations on this occasion, and instead shine a light on NR as the lifeline for maintaining credibility in the clubhouse. Some might disagree, citing reasons such as “I was trying to keep up the pace of play” or “I hurt my wrist and wasn’t able to hit it properly (though I kept on playing)”. For me, unless you really have broken your arm, the NR exists for one reason only – to save public humiliation. You were having what is known in as a ‘Betty Crocker’! The possibility of a respectable scorecard has not only deserted you, it’s left the golf course. We’ve all been there, it’s a dark dark place often stumbled upon far too early in the round, and it strikes fear into the stomach of even the most seasoned golfer. Golf balls spraying everywhere, putts going astray, water and ‘Out Of Bounds’ visited on more than one occasion, just how bad can this round of golf get? More to the point, how on earth does one explain such total loss of coordination? But then somewhere in this process of deliberation comes the light bulb moment – that there is a way out! Admittedly it’s a little cowardly, but it’s still a way to save face. The two letters that tend to draw knowing nods rather than uncomfortable sniggering from within the club house. Those two letters that we all know we probably shouldn’t ever write on a scorecard but which it’s so hard to avoid turning to in our hour of need. NR. What’s most telling, though, are those feelings of guilt that weigh down on us the very moment we hand the card in. Funny that.
Medicine
Most mortal golfers simply don’t possess ‘Houdini-esque’ power of escapology, so why do we all persist in attempting the miraculous recovery shot at any given opportunity? You know what I’m talking about – that nigh-impossible shot under the first branch, over the next one, to carry the water and stop short of toppling off the other side of the green. It’s a one in hundred/thousand/million, depending on your level of skill but presented to us, it’s a challenge we have to take on. Whether it’s from the depths of the forest, a cavernous pot bunker, a water hazard, or chest high rough, something within us brazenly rejects all logic, contemptuously dismisses probability and eggs us on to prove our genius. 99% of the time only one thing follows – failure. It’s all the more bewildering when most of the time there was a simple alternative that would’ve left a slight blemish on the scorecard, as opposed to the complete atrocity that now looks inevitable. Perhaps that option wouldn’t have been so cowardly after all. There’s far more hindsight than foresight in this great game.
Hollywood
The other temptation we so often succumb to is to make THAT shot. It’s the ‘Hollywood’ shot, the shot we know Tiger would make in front of the cameras, all first pumping action and cheering crowds. However short on talent we may be, we’re not short on belief.
In reality, it is of course nothing more than a thinly veiled show of bravado. We know only too well that the 250 yard carry over water isn’t achievable (given that the drive only went 230, for heaven’s sake) but try stopping us attempting to emulate a hero, gain considerable bragging rights in the clubhouse and hit that ‘career’ shot that proves our golfing genius. It’s got to be worth flirting with the (inevitable) disaster, right?
So, there’s my case (or at least my opening argument) for why our egos do so much to ruin our scorecards. So, what’s my advice? Well, there’s a fine line between pleasure and pain and how good does it feel when that shot DOES come off? There’s a case for vanity, too.