Golf and the Great Delusion of Grandeur

If you’re like many of us who attempt to play the irrational game of golf, you may have tried to do the rational thing and take a lesson or two. Most of us, I think, took up the game without the benefit of some qualified individual actually giving us a few hints. You know, like learning what the fundamentals are, that swinging a golf club isn’t really like taking a hack with a baseball bat, or pretty much anything else you can think of. But hey, it’s a club and a ball. How hard can it be?

We soon find out, don’t we? Not only is mastering the golf swing a black art, it’s but a vague clue of what awaits us about the rest of the game. Which club do I use for what situation? How far is my carry with each club? How much roll out do I typically get? How do I induce backspin, and how much? Why should I try to land my ball in certain areas of each fairway or green? What will happen if it lands somewhere other than intended? Infinite possibilities. And, as Einstein purportedly said about the universe, it’s a game where the more we know, the more we realize we don’t know and can never possibly know. Really encouraging.

Better still, the infinite internal ramblings about strategy, swing speed and tempo, how to alter your swing for things like downhill or uphill or sidehill lies, sand traps, long rough, different grass types, putting on greens with significant grain and slope and varying speed all await you. An endless string of thoughts to overload your brain synapses between shots. Because you know, there is a lot of time to think between shots. All that time to second guess and screw up your plan and enjoyment.

I decided to give a real lesson a try. Granted, it ended up being an abbreviated one due to a scheduling issue at the course, but it was a lesson nonetheless. And, of course, I had to wait years, decades, so I could thoroughly engrain several bad habits in my muscle memory, assuming I even have that anymore. Anyway, the instructor pointed out a couple of fundamental flaws in my swing. What a surprise. I’m shocked there aren’t more. He actually complimented my backswing, but it ended there.

The instructor was almost gushily complimentary about the guy next to me. Come on, really? My swing doesn’t look that much different than his! Except, well, he does hit the ball farther, more consistently and with greater accuracy than I do. Other than that, we’re about the same. My internal protest was more envy, a fantasy at best. This other guy was actually good; I’m mediocre.

By the end of the lesson, this instructor had me questioning everything, even the things I thought I was doing right. He confirmed my grip was good, but all that exercise did was start me wondering. Trying to make my swing less steep from the top felt like I was starting over. The concept isn’t new to me, but having someone critique my lack of success incorporating it destroyed what confidence I may have had. By the end, I could barely hit a ball. I was utterly discombobulated.

Two days later I’m on the course with three avid golfers, anywhere from ten to twenty years younger. Confusion from the lesson is still ringing in my head. I begin with the intent of not trying to incorporate anything except a new alignment routine into my game, but even that sends me into a tizzy. This game is about mental routines that allow you to repeat physical performance with consistent results.

For me at least, messing with the routine means messing with all of it. I was quite successful at screwing up the results. I quadruple bogeyed the first hole and double bogeyed the second. Nice start. I managed par on the third, but it was up and down the rest of the day, ending with a 20-foot chip in for par on the last hole.

This instructor highlighted what I need to work on, but it’s going to take time and practice, a lot of practice, to make these changes feel natural. Ugh! And I thought I was actually getting better. Ha! How we love to fool ourselves….