Provocations

By pbobby

There are times when I hit a hot streak on the golf course. My drives are straight and long; my iron shots go high and land softly on the greens; then my putter seems to know just how to find the hole, in one or two strokes. Times like this don't occur as often as I wish they would. And, these streaks don't happen for a full eighteen holes, since an out of bounds shot with the two-stroke penalty does more than hurt my score. I just go blank when this happens and don't even remember to watch where the ball enters the bushy rough. The balls I hit in the water hazards do the same things to me. The next shot has a 75% chance of being almost as bad as the one that started the blanking of my mind.

I know that I will hit more poor shots than I do solid shots. So, why do I take it seriously enough to let my anxiety take over my mind and body? It has to be that I expect to hit each shot properly or it's a disaster. I know it's not a catastrophe if I hit lousy shots, but my sub-conscious doesn't seem to understand this truth. I think that part of it has to do with the way I used to play in the low 70's and occasionally broke par. I seem to forget that I was twenty-five years younger and used beer to relax my body so that what I told my muscles to do, they did so unconsciously.

Since I don't gamble or drink beer on the golf course as I used to, why should I put so much pressure upon myself?

I know now that it is true that the older I get the higher my scores are going to be. It just so happens that the older I get the better I used to do many things.

About three weeks ago I set out a little earlier than usual to go to Mansfield to play a round with three of my friends. And it's good thing that I did, because in trying to find a short cut to the course, I got lost, big time! I arrived on time for our game, but I was still in the hurry-up mode.

At the first tee, I struck the ball on the sweet spot. It sailed out down the fairway slightly left of center. The ball ended up in a deep valley of short rough about 125 yards from the pin. I could not see the pin and had to climb up the right slope to find a line on which I wanted my ball to go. I pulled a seven iron to be sure that I cleared the steep bank and promptly over swung hiting the big ball first. Needless to say it was about 15 yards short of the green. I chipped on, and dropped the put for a bogey.

Hole number 2 was an omen of things to come since I bogeyed it even though I was on the green in two strokes.

Hole number 3 was a very long 5-par challenge. My drive could not have been any better than my body can produce. I topped my second shot and watched it bounce along the fair way for about 125 yards. With 160 yards to go into the wind, I put my ball on the green about thirty feet from the pin. With two puts I had escaped with a par with two really ragged shots.

Hole number 4 was just one of those holes that happen when one doesn't concentrate. Some of us call it an Army hole. First you hit to the left, then to the right, then to the left of the green. After playing a little annie-over, a double-bogey was my reward.

"This is not the way," I say, "to prepare one's mind for number 5 - the longest par 3 hole on the course." To have a chance of paring this hole, your tee shot has to carry about 195 yards over the brushy valley of death. The green is large enough, but the slopes and undulations make it most likely that you will be farther away from the hole after your first putt than before. I aimed my tee shot about 75 yards right of the pin; struck it well and cleared the gorge by a scant 2 feet. I was happy until my chip shot hit just left of the hole and rolled sharply down and off the green. The net result was a triple bogey 6.

That was the point that I remembered the fourth agreement (always do your best) in Don Miguel Ruiz's The Four Agreements.

I simply did my best the rest of the way through the 18 holes. I enjoyed playing from that point in. Sure, I hit shots that did not go in the direction I had intended, or near as far as I wanted. But I finished the round with a score of 88.

That made the day memorable: not the 88, but the acceptance that I had done the best I could.

I am trying to apply this principle to my everyday activities.