Twilight Practice: Worst Ball

Apr30 by Scott

We’ve all heard of Best Ball – the format where the better result of two players is marked on the scorecard for each hole during the round. It’s a fun format, especially if you happen to be partnered up with a fairly consistent player who doesn’t fold under pressure very often.

But very few of us are familiar with Worst Ball.

Worst Ball is a practice format that I use exclusively to get a thorough assessment of where my game is during certain points of the season, though it’s nothing like the Best Ball format. Worst Ball format is solely for individual practice, but is really more along the lines of a one-man scramble. Except obviously you don’t pick the best shot of the two to play, but the worst. The concept behind the worst ball format is to reveal the importance of your recovery skills, and too – your course management skills. If you’re only going to be as good a player as the quality of your bad shots, then maybe it’s worth reconsidering what and how you practice. How many good shots do you truly hit each round? Before you answer that, keep in mind that the great Ben Hogan said that during his best years, he hit maybe 2-3 good shots each round. Now, what was your answer again?

So knowing these things, knowing that the quality of our golf is largely dependent on the quality of our recovery shots, wouldn’t our practice time be better invested in real on-course situations that we find ourselves in each weekend with our buddies? It would seem that way to me, for sure.

How does it work? I generally use the par3 up the street from where I live, usually in the evenings when the course isn’t busy. You can use your home course, or any course for that matter, be it a 9-hole par3 or a regulation-size course. I’m simply playing a 1-man scramble, using two balls. After hitting two tee shots, I pick the worst result of the two, then play two more shots, picking the worst of the two, etc. Once both balls are on the green, the ball furthest from the hole is the only ball used from that point forward.

The overall objective is to keep scores worse than bogey off the card.

What you’ll find after doing this practice round a few times is just how reliable your recovery skills are, how important it is to miss in the right spots, the true merit of your scrambling and grinding skills around the greens, and you’ll also face some pressure to follow up a good shot with an equally good or better result, since you’ll have to play the worst result of the two.

If you’re serious about improving the quality of your game, including your recovery skills and game management, I’d recommend giving this practice round a try. It will help reveal the areas of your game that need the most attention, while at the same time giving you a very thorough real-time practice session that covers every aspect of your game, including how you manage your game and the situations you face on the course.

If you’re truly wanting to turn 6′s into 5′s and 5′s into 4′s, Worst Ball will get you on the right path to get there.

Plumb-Bobbing Life: More than Just a Teaching Pro

Apr21 by Scott

It was another long day, as always, and he was ready to pack it in. Having spent most of the day on his feet, he sat down for a moment to rest, daydreaming of coming home, kicking his sore feet up on the recliner for a few hours and maybe catching a quick nap before his wife, Patti, had their evening dinner prepared. “I’m drained, I don’t even know what day it is,” he thought to himself as he stared in the distance at nothing in particular. “But I know that I gotta keep going, there’s still so many people needing my help.” With that last thought in mind, he summoned the energy to get back on his feet and log a few more hours into the late evening.

I met Nick Nicolich about a dozen or so years ago, by happenstance really. He and I were familiar with each other through words and emails only, as we both connected via a golf website online where we both shared a similar passion and viewpoint not just about Golf, but life in general. Through a keyboard, in what was more or less the infancy stages of what we now commonly refer to as the social media, a friendship began. A few years afterward, several of us who frequented the website from the Mid Atlantic and Northeastern regions of the United States decided to put together an informal golf outing, simply to put some faces to the virtual names from the website, at a neutral gathering place at a golf course in Colts Neck, New Jersey.

Per my usual norm, I got to the golf course early that day of the outing, and I was on the practice range warming up, trying my best to figure out how to somehow stop hooking the ball off the planet. It was unusually warm that afternoon, and within 20 minutes I’d already worked up a pretty good sweat. I took a small break, long enough to towel off and take a few swigs of water. That’s when I realized that he’d been observing me hitting balls, and he walked over to where I was. “Fighting the hooks, are ya?” he asked. I recall saying something to the effect of, “if you only knew” or something along those lines. “Hit a few more for me,” he said. “Pretend that I’m not even here, just keep doing what you were doing.” I hit about 5 or so more balls, and it was the same thing, hook after hook. He just stood there studying without saying a word. After about 5 more balls, I guess he’d seen enough. “Do you mind if I show you something?” he asked. “Please, feel free,” I said. He then says, “Look at your grip. Now, I want you to hold the club with the same grip, but looser.” I did as he asked, and then he made a slight adjustment, positioning my right hand to get the logo of my golf glove facing the target a little more. “There, how does that feel,” he asked. “That feels very awkward,” I replied. He chuckled and said, “I bet it does. Now, I want you to make the same swing, maintaining that grip but with a little more relaxed grip pressure.” I don’t know how he did it, but I can still feel that moment of “Eureka!” as I hit this beautiful iron shot that went straight as an arrow. “I bet you ain’t seen that in a while, have ya,” he said, smiling ear to ear. “By virtue of your left handedness, you must be Lefty. Lefty, I’m Nick – your old buddy on the golf forum. It’s good to finally meet you, sir.”

At that very moment, I was struck with two overwhelming thoughts. Thought number one, first and foremost, was that the Golfing Gods had sent an angel from the heavens to help me sort out my ailing golf game. Thought number two, which was a little more sobering, was that there was the possibility, albeit remote, that I had just befriended a serial killer who would slip something in my bottle of water with my back turned, and tomorrow morning the course maintenance guys would be fishing my dead body out of the pond near the 16th green.

Luckily for me, Nick wasn’t a serial killer. But you’ve already picked up on that, I’m sure.

That day would mark the first of many to come in which both he and I would walk the fairways together in the coming years, not only learning each others’ strengths and weaknesses with a golf club in our hands, but more importantly – appreciating the value of sharing a day on a golf course with a friend who would lend an ear to some of life’s problems. I learned early on in our friendship that Nick had the overwhelming ability to make people feel very comfortable around him, as though they’d known him for years. His friendly and oft times comical disposition made him easy to relate to, both on and off the golf course. But he also had an enormous competitive spirit that exuded confidence. That competitive, confident drive coupled with both his work ethic and his ability to relate to people would all work together in serving him very well later on in life, in both his career as an accomplished teaching professional and as a neighbor in a community that could rely on his undying compassion during times of need.

As it relates to his career more specifically, his ability to communicate with his students is a huge, huge part of his overall success as a golf instructor. But too, the ability to relate to his students and what they’re going through when they come to him for help also plays a key role. “Teaching can bring great joy, but it can also bring great frustration. The joy is obvious, but the frustration comes from within. It comes from the fact that I can see the student’s frustration, and I then try and assume it for them,” he states. “This game is so damn hard most days. I really do feel for my students during these times, but sometimes you have to let them go to the range, on their own, and work out the things we’ve covered. No different than that of a parent who’s preparing to see their firstborn leave the nest and make life on their own, so too is the struggle with teaching. It’s hard to let go sometimes.”

I recall a conversation with him several years ago, as I asked him about a particular method that had become fairly popular that was being taught at that time, and sought his advice on whether or not it was something that maybe I should consider myself. Knowing my game as well as anyone, he didn’t pull any punches with his thoughts on the matter. “Hey, I don’t believe in the ‘one size fits all’ approach in golf,” he said. “Perhaps it comes from my wrestling background, but I’ve been very successful with understanding the body type of a student and their ability to work within the athletic frame they’re given. I’m not into teaching a method, but helping my students become better players based on the amount of flexibility and athleticism they have. That’s something that shouldn’t be overlooked, but often is when it comes to teaching. Again, there is no one size fits all approach as it pertains to hitting a well-struck golf ball.”

Nick didn’t answer my question directly, because he knew that it was ultimately my decision to either radically change my golf swing versus maybe working a little harder to make the swing I already had a little more proficient. But imbedded in his reply was the hallmark of a sound teaching philosophy, one in which he credits a legendary figure in golf instruction with helping him establish his own teaching style. “The more I teach, the more I try to find the simplest way to convey the message,” he said one afternoon, as we enjoyed a few beers and burgers at the 19th hole after the round. “From my earliest days as a player to this very day – I’ve been a Harvey Penick disciple. Mr. Penick’s words were simple to understand, and through his teachings I was able to find my own teaching style. We all know how hard this game is,” he goes on, “but I don’t believe that understanding golf instruction should be hard as well.”

Indeed, the game is hard most days. Sometimes the game seems so complicated that we lose our way, as we clutter our minds with hundreds of swing thoughts that begin with “maybe I should try this” or “maybe I need to try that.” Some days we’re left with only one of two options: either quit the game that we used to love, or find someone who can maybe help us sort through it all and start loving it once again. So as we continued our discussion over lunch that afternoon, I found the courage to ask him a question that I felt at that time might’ve been insulting. I was shocked with his response. “Do I take lessons, you ask? Sure, I take lessons,” he said. “I have certain struggles just like everyone else who plays the game. But too – I’ve had to hit a lot of golf balls in my life to get where I am today, and an even larger amount to stay here. I’m lucky in that I work with a great friend and even a greater instructor here at Harbor Links – Guna Kunjan, our head teaching professional. We work out a deal, he helps me take care of my full swing, and in return I help him out with his short game.” I kinda chuckled a bit after he said that, more from being caught off guard with his confession moreso than anything else. But knowing Nick as well as I do, and knowing how much pride he takes in working hard to maintain his skill level, it really shouldn’t have come as a surprise. “Shoot yeah, he gets me back on track where he wants me. I’m typically drenched in sweat by the time we get there, but in the end it’s all worth it.”

An ordinary day for Nick Nicolich typically involves correcting a few bad grips, analyzing a lot of golf swings, and trying to help players lower their handicaps at a little corner of the practice range at Harbor Links Golf Club, in North Hempstead, NY, where he’s spent the past decade of his life teaching a game that he loves.

But this long, unending day in particular, back in late October, was anything but ordinary. The people looking to Nick for help on this day weren’t golfers coming to his corner of the practice range at Harbor Links hoping to become better golfers, but rather neighbors and fellow citizens who were simply looking for a hot meal and some comforting reassurance in what appeared to be a hopeless situation. The Knights of Columbus hall in nearby Long Beach, not far from Nick’s home, became his temporary workplace for the next six weeks, as the hall had been converted into a makeshift relief shelter and soup kitchen for those in need. Just a few days earlier, Hurricane Sandy and all of her enormous wrath slammed into the Northeastern coastline, not just completely leveling homes, but wiping entire communities completely off the map. Nick happened to be one of the lucky few whose home was somehow spared from one of the costliest storms in US history, but the devastation was unlike anything he’d ever witnessed. “I’ve been here a long, long time,” he said, “and I ain’t ever seen anything like it. People that I know – friends, neighbors, relatives – they’ve lost everything.”

As if things couldn’t possibly get any worse, the Knights of Columbus Hall there at Long Beach – which was still actively serving as a relief hub for those impacted by the storm and had somehow survived the storm’s devastation 6 weeks earlier – was destroyed by fire on December 10th. “That was really the low point for me,” he would tell me later. “As if looking around and seeing the enormous loss everywhere you looked wasn’t bad enough, we found ourselves in a situation where we could no longer help those who still needed help the most?

“I tell ya – golf was a distant memory at that time, my friend.”

The aftermath of the storm from last October with the trail of destruction it left behind in its wake is still present in some areas of that section of Long Island, nearly half a year later. But time goes on, and life goes on. I was reminded of this earlier this week, as I received the news that Nick was honorably mentioned as one of the top-50 instructors in America by one of the biggest junior golf programs in the country – the US Kids Golf Association. Nick has always had a niche for short game instruction, as his short game clinics and individual short game lessons continue to be one of the more popular teaching programs in Long Island, particularly with the younger players coming up through the junior golf ranks. His love of teaching the short game is quite obvious, as I’ve personally encountered on numerous occasions the art with which he can work a wedge and stroke a putter as we’ve played together over the years. If Golf were indeed considered Art, Nick Nicolich would be a modern-day Picasso, with the area from 100 yards and in to the green as his canvas.

But there’s another side to Nick that a lot of people saw firsthand the days and weeks following the disastrous storm that washed ashore on Long Island last fall, a side that I’ve been familiar with all these years I’ve known him. While his passion in life is teaching people how to be better golfers, he recognizes the importance of what happens beyond the golf course, like being a good neighbor and lending a helping hand in a desperate time of need.

He’s more than just a great teaching pro, more than just a great ambassador of the game we love. He’s a great friend and an even greater human being.

How to Lose Your Game in 10 Simple Steps

Mar25 by Scott

Most golf instructors today have it all wrong. This whole notion about positive reinforcement achieving much more success than negative reinforcement? Hogwash! No, quite the contrary… they’ve been going about all of this bass ackwards, because each year when the surveys are published about the average scores from average golfers – the average scores are getting worse, not better.

The time is now to pose a different strategy, I say.

So you’ve been playing great golf as of late and have no earthly idea why that is. Sure, every player will give his/her own reasoning behind the lower scores, with everything from “I’m hitting it on a rope, and 40 yards longer” to “my iron play has never been better.” A few will credit improved chipping and putting, while others will say they’re cutting down on the senseless penalties and managing the course better and making smarter decisions.

But the bottom line is that the game is no longer fun and you suddenly find yourself going through the motions every round playing a boring game. You miss that feeling that can only come with the sound of a splash as a ball finds the center of a water hazard, followed by your reliable proficiency of uttering no fewer than 5 F-bombs that can be heard three fairways over. You miss calling yourself bad names after chili dipping a pitch shot from just in front of the green, or the challenges that come from trying to unearth a badly plugged ball from the green-side sand bunker that shouldn’t have been in the way but ultimately was. The sound of a ball making dead-solid contact with a hollow tree 80 yards into the woods? That feeling of bewilderment that can only come from a 2-footer that horseshoes around the cup? The thrill of swinging as hard and as fast as you can from the tee with absolutely no idea where the ball is going to go? The swooshing sound of a wedge being helicoptered 75 yards after a bladed shot from the bunker?

Yes, you miss each and every one of those scenarios and you desperately want the game to be like it used to be, and you fear that it’s gone for good. Well, I’ve got good news for you today – I can get you back there. It won’t be easy, but if you’ll follow my 10 Simple Steps – I can make you an even greater hacker than you ever thought you could be.

How to Lose Your Game 10 Simple Steps

1. Play every last inch of the course.

You’ve probably listened to someone tell you that you don’t hit the ball far enough to play the back tees, and sure enough – you’ve meandered forward on the tee box and found yourself a lot closer to the greens on your second shots. Move back to the tips and leave yourself longer shots into the greens, so instead of hitting a comfortable iron – you’re hitting a fairway wood. Come on, you know that’s where you should be playing anyway, anyone can hit a green with an 8-iron…

2. Put the 0 back in hero.

You’ve feasted on the conservative approach, pitching out sideways when you get stuck behind the trees and still making par, or maybe the lowliest of lows – laying up when there’s trouble that you know you can reach. Come on, reach between your legs and give the boys a jingle again, letting them know you’re still there. You didn’t come here today to lay up, did you?

3. Swing really hard on every swing.

You’ve simply forgotten how awesome you looked with those neck veins flared as you lashed at the ball with every ounce of your inner being. Deep down you know you’re the longest hitter in your group, and who cares where the ball ends up? You’ve got a reputation to uphold, and your buddies have forgotten how bad it feels when you tell them, “Hey, you’re away.” Grip it and rip it, from driver all the way down to wedge, the harder and faster, the better.

4. Play the night owl the night before.

Sleep? Who needs sleep? If your tee time is 8:00 tomorrow morning, don’t worry about getting back home before 2:00 a.m. at the earliest. Go ahead and live it up the night before, I mean get totally ripped, to the point where you forget where you live. You’ll find a way to get home and get at least 3 hours sleep, that’s really all you need anyway.

5. Get to the course 2 minutes before your starting time.

There’s nothing like that first swing of the day to wake up every muscle in your body. Why waste it on the range before the round? Your back, legs, and shoulders will be fine, it’s not like you’re getting to work 45 minutes earlier than normal to loosen up and stretch your fingers at your desk job Monday thru Friday. The only additional time you need is figuring out who you’re going to screw over by them having you as your teammate in your weekend match. If you have to sprint into the pro shop to check in to be on the first tee on time, you get extra points.

6. Just say no to practice.

Above all else, avoid practice like the plague. Seriously. You’ve probably gotten into the habit of going a few times each week, found a little something to take with you to the course on the weekend, and the accuracy of your shots has become a little too predictable. Just simply stop going to the practice range after work and go home and vegetate like the rest of the hackers in the universe without even thinking about golf.

7. See how many days in a row you can play without taking a day off.

Like Def Leopard always said, it’s better to burn out than fade away. During your summer vacation (since this won’t be possible if you have a job) see how many consecutive days you can play without a break. Seven would be good, 10 is really good, and 14 days would be great. Make sure you’re going to the first tee cold-turkey without a proper warmup though! Can’t forget step #5.

8. Really tight grip pressure is vital!

One of the reasons you’ve been hitting good shots lately is because you’re gripping the club much too lightly. When you grip the club, squeeze as hard as you can and maintain that level of grip pressure from start to finish. Your knuckles should be bone-white, and you should be able to feel that in your arms and shoulders too. The instructors say to apply enough pressure as though you’re gripping a tube of toothpaste without squeezing out the toothpaste? Baloney. Squeeze every last ounce of that toothpaste out of the tube. If you prefer the “holding a live bird” analogy, kill it with your bare hands.

9. Have at least 10 swing thoughts during your swing, more if possible.

Ah, now we’re getting somewhere. You’ve gotten into the habit of having only one or two swing keys over every shot. That’s obviously not enough. Look, the longer you stand over the ball at address and think about all of the needed mechanics to produce the upcoming swing, the better. The absolute last thing you need is only one small thing to think about. In your mind, you should feel like you’re juggling no fewer than 6 sticks of dynamite, and nary a one can hit the ground. That’s the amount of confused stress and tension we’re looking for.

10. Set your expectations really high.

Who cares if you can’t remember the last time you broke 90 – you’ve got more than enough talent at your disposal to play par golf just about every round. Go ahead – put that number out there in front of your buddies before the round even starts, telling them that they’re going to witness something really special from you today. Every round – par golf or better should be the goal.

So there you have it. If you follow my 10 Simple Steps as outlined above, you’ll be back to playing the game the way it wasn’t meant to be played in no time at all.

The Quintessential Definition of a Near Miss

Mar14 by Scott

My two good neighbors from up the street, Richard and Les, called me earlier this afternoon, wanting to know if I’d be interested in joining them for a quick 9 at Claremont Park. I said sure, it’s always a good time playing with them, and although we’re getting nearer to spring here in Southeast England, it’s still winter and today’s weather was about as good as could be expected this time of year. Also known as DRY.

It took each of us a few holes to get loose and making decent swings, but by the middle of the round all three of us were hitting some reasonably nice shots. Then came the final hole of the day, a 141-yd par3.

I saved the best for last, as Vanessa Williams once sang to me in a love song, as I somehow managed to stay centered over the ball without swaying out ahead. The contact was flush, the ball flight was high and true, and from the moment it left the club’s face it really never left the flag. It landed just short of the pin, at least from what we could tell, and Richard started getting excited, exclaiming something to the effect of “I think he bloody well holed it!” It had been several years since I had my last one, at Olde Homestead Golf Club… and I honestly felt that maybe Richard was right and I’d possibly just ended the ace drought as we took off for the green. But as we got within 50-60 yards, what we all thought was a miraculous shot ended up being only a very nice one. (Which I’m really just as proud of, btw, as they don’t come all that often..)

So this is how cruel the game can be sometimes. A nice high 8-iron that lands the ball softly about 12 inches in front of the cup and ends up about 3 inches directly behind it, almost defying the laws of probability at that point. So as the subject of the post states, truly the quintessential definition of a near miss.

How did this not go in?

The Vagaries of Matchplay

Feb25 by Scott

It’s rather unfortunate that we only get to see “our” game being played a few times each year by the pros, despite recognizing how the format might struggle to deliver the highest TV ratings and all that jive if the Tour’s most popular players don’t advance. But TV ratings be damned, I’d much rather watch two highly skilled players going mano a mano than watch them dawdle and fidget for 5 hours in a boringly long stroke play event. In fact, it’s what makes the overtime period in a tournament on Sunday so exciting, that sudden-death factor. You either match or better your opponent’s play swing for swing, stroke for stroke, or you go home. It really doesn’t get much more exciting than that. Some of the most exciting memories that I still have in all the years of watching and covering pro golf have come from those do-or-die situations and witnessing all of the emotion that is released with one swing or one stroke of a putter when it’s all on the line. As much as I genuinely get into and love watching the Ryder Cup every other year, it would do absolutely nothing for me if it was stroke play. Thank God it’s not.

Every competitive player, pro or amateur, has their own strategy, their own methodology of how they approach matchplay. Some plot along no differently than if they were playing stroke play, viewing the course itself as the primary opponent. I’ve always marveled at how those who employ the course = opponent strategy can completely ignore what their opponents do, however. While I understand and appreciate the concept of a player staying within the confines of playing his own game, if the ultimate goal is to beat your opponent – which I assume is the case or otherwise you wouldn’t be playing him in a match – how he plays has every reason to influence your strategy. Or it should anyway, lest you prefer to lose. But that’s the great thing about the format, the situational atmosphere it creates. My opponent is in there tight with his approach and stands a very good chance at making a birdie, so maybe I need to be a little more aggressive to the target with my own approach now. Or since my opponent found the water in front of the green on the long par3, maybe my target becomes the back of the green, taking the water completely out of play. In those situations, it would seem the most successful approach would be to keep the pressure on your opponent without following him into trouble with your play. If you can maintain that advantage most of the match, the odds of you winning become very, very good.

Regardless of whichever strategy a player employs, I’ve always found that my toughest opponents in matchplay all had one distinct quality about their games that stood out from everyone else: they were all solid putters with very tidy short games. For that reason alone, a majority of the time I always took the mindset that regardless of how poorly they played their approach shots into the greens – they’d somehow find a way to execute a good pitch or chip shot and make the putt for par. That was basically my internal fail-safe mechanism, expecting my opponents to force me to earn a halve or possibly an outright win. But over the years when I’d play with teammates in some sort of team matchplay, I’d occasionally be surprised to hear the occasional “I bet he misses” comment whispered to me as we would observe one of our opponents on the green facing a crucial putt to either halve or win the hole. If our opponent made the putt, it didn’t come as a surprise to me. I think all good matchplay players understand the significance of expecting their opponents to make the needed shots around and on the greens, and having the mindset that you expect to have to make a putt yourself to halve or win a hole prevents the sudden shock of being put in that position. Good matchplay players assume that they’re gonna have to earn every hole.

And then there are those days when all of the best laid plans of mice and men don’t matter one iota. You can play incredibly well yet still lose the match to an opponent who’s hitting every green and making every big putt, or you can have an off day and still come out the winner. There have been numerous occasions in the past when I’ve gotten halfway through the round not playing particularly well, but scrapped and clawed my way back and completely reversed the momentum. Momentum is a huge, huge deal in matchplay. When you have it – you never feel like you’re going to lose it, and when you lose it – you never feel like you’re going to get it back. But that just underscores the importance of not giving away holes with bad decisions and keeping the pressure on your opponent to keep executing. Even in the scruffiest matches I’ve lost over the years, there were several opportunities to change the momentum of that match because of his poor execution and/or decision making that I simply didn’t take advantage of.

There’s not a one-size-fits-all approach to matchplay, other than keeping a positive attitude and a fighting spirit. I think those two traits are extremely important, especially in a tight match with a tough opponent. I’ve never been fond of gamesmanship tactics, although there have been a few notable occasions when I’ve had the honors on the tee of a par3 and intentionally over-clubbed and under-swung, or vice-versa, to create doubt in my opponent’s mind about a true playing yardage. Obviously I reserve the right to hit whatever club I wish, and should my opponent take a gander in my bag to see which club I swung – he did so at his own liberty, not per my request. Beyond that, I really wouldn’t enjoy winning any other way than allowing my game to simply be better than his, outside of possibly taking advantage of a few good breaks here and there.

Such is matchplay, the way the game was meant to be played in my opinion.

Mind Games: is your strategy holding you back?

Feb1 by Scott

Allow me to preface something before proceeding any further: if you truly have a strategy that you employ while playing a round of golf, you’re already well ahead of a vast majority of players. Most players, which also includes the more serious types as well, play golf with about as much sense of direction and purpose as a loose sheet of paper blowing in a strong gusty wind. They might claim they have a strategy that they play by, but in my 25 years of playing – what I witness all too often would certainly suggest otherwise. But having a strategy is only part of it.

You must have an effective strategy, or you might as well be like a majority of players and have no strategy at all.

An effective strategy, contrary to popular belief, isn’t permanent. Your strategy should be adjustable; able to adjust to a number of variables at any given time. How many times have you teed off on the first hole of the day in calm, perfect conditions, only to find yourself having to allow for a 2-club wind 90 minutes later? How you mentally approach the game during calm, normal conditions is going to be totally different from how you approach the game when the conditions become very challenging, at least if your goal is to play effectively. The same is true as it relates to playing different courses; the strategy you employ on a more open layout with larger greens is hardly ever the same when playing a tighter, tree-lined layout with smaller greens. And for that matter, the same could be true as it relates to playing the same course; there’s always a hole or two that requires a bit more thought and attention to detail than some of the others.

For your strategy to be effective, it needs to be flexible so it can adapt to the real time situations you encounter when you play. It also means adjusting your expectations to fit the situation. It stands to reason that if I play my normal game, my scores are going to be considerably lower on a dry, calm day than they will be on a wet and windy day. But if I don’t adjust my mental standard for the more challenging day and continue to keep the performance bar high, all I’m doing is sabotaging my confidence and assuring that my strategy will be anything but effective.

Effective strategies require effective game management.

Every player should know their true, consistent carry yardages with each club in their bag (within 2-3 yards at the very least), but I’d be willing to wager that fewer than 20% actually do. What that tells me is this: on those rare occasions when players hit that perfect tee shot right down the middle and leave themselves with a simple second shot into the green, 8 out of every 10 players in that situation are likely choosing the wrong club on those approaches. You might be thinking, “Yeah, but Scott – we’re talking 125 yards, a wedge shot. What’s the big deal if I’m a few yards long or short?” Okay, I’ll play along. What happens if there’s some wind that a player isn’t factoring into the equation? Now you’re not just looking at 8-10 feet short or long of the flag, but potentially 16-20 feet, maybe even longer. You might get away with that if the pin location is in the middle of the green, but what if it’s cut front or back? Better yet, what if there’s trouble protecting the front and the back of the green? That’s how a routine par or even an outside shot at a birdie can quickly turn into a bogey or double. You can’t employ an effective playing strategy if you don’t know how far your carry distances are with your clubs.

But effective game management doesn’t just apply to club selection, although that’s a big part of it. It’s also knowing when to play away from certain flags on the greens and maintaining the easiest angles if you miss the target, or knowing that the lie of the ball is going to impact both the trajectory, spin and overall distance. It’s taking a few seconds on each shot to capture a mental image of where the target is, what might be surrounding it, the gentle breeze behind your back, etc. And ultimately, effectively managing the things that you do have control of. You can manage how you plot your way around the course 90 percent of the time, because 90 percent of the time you’re playing a course you’re very familiar with. You can manage your game effectively by making sure that you’re sticking with your routine, making good decisions on both shot selection and club selection, and last but certainly not least – managing your emotions and controlling the way you react, what you say to yourself, etc. If you’re the type that gets angry with yourself after a series of bad shots, you’re not going to play well. You gotta learn how to be your own best friend on the golf course.

If you can do these things on a fairly consistent basis, your strategy will be much more effective. And if you have an effective strategy when you play, you will give yourself more opportunities to shoot better scores.

My Golf Journal Entry from May 2000

Dec13 by Scott

Okay, I’ll fess up. There was a time in my life when I kept a golfing diary. Not sure what’s worse – that I actually thought chronicling my development in the game would help me become a better player, or that I would deem it blog-worthy enough later on in life to disclose one of the entries here on my site.

Go ahead, laugh if you must. But don’t be surprised if you find some of the stuff familiar and/or (hopefully) helpful. This journal entry was dated back in May of 2000, and apparently I’d recommitted myself to becoming a single digit handicapper. I’d broken 80 a couple of times the season prior, and it was at that point that I truly decided to become a student of the game. Before diving into those notes that I wrote over 12 years ago, allow me to state the obvious: the game will drive you crazy if you let it.

Crazy enough, in fact, to feel important enough to spend a significant portion of your life writing about it.

May 2000

I’ve got to figure out a few things before I’ll ever be the player I feel I can be. I feel that I have the proper mindset, but having the right attitude alone won’t get me there. My short game needs work, my putting is great, but my pitching and chipping are costing me major strokes each round. More than anything else, this area of my game is holding me back the most.

Outside of the short game, I also need to develop a consistent game off the tee. If I’m ever going to be able to rely on my drives, I must figure out a way to control where the ball goes with the longest club in the bag. Swinging for the fence with every swing with driver clearly isn’t working, as my high rounds indicate. Distance is only as good as my ability to play the next shot into the green.

So how do I address these two issues? I’ll start by setting goals, realistic goals. Maybe I won’t hit every fairway, maybe I won’t hit every pitch shot or chip shot to within 3 feet of the hole. But I can do better than I’m doing now, and must if I ever hope to consistently shoot rounds in the 70′s. I’m going to start devoting more time during my practice to work on impacting the ball more crisply while pitching the ball to various distances. 30, 40, and 50 yards seem to be the problem areas, as I tense up and either skull the ball or hit behind it. If I relax my grip pressure and focus on keeping my hands ahead of the clubhead, don’t decelerate through impact, and avoid looking up to see where the ball is going – I think these three things will greatly improve my performance. But I must work on controlling the distance to those yardages. And to do that – I need to start focusing on where I want the ball to land and worry less about the target itself.

As for my driving problems – this area will be the greatest challenge. I’ve always swung aggressively, and the longer the club gets – the harder I swing. I need to stop thinking in terms of hard and fast, and start thinking in terms of smooth and controllable. I need to start picking out real targets off the tee, instead of just stepping up to the ball and swinging to no place in particular. This might even require me to get a few lessons, which I wouldn’t look forward to, but neither do I look forward to not having any confidence driving the ball every round. To hopefully remove the need for lessons, I need to make sure I’m following the basics on every swing. I must get into a good posture, I must have good alignment, and my grip needs to be correct. Those three things are vital!

I’ve never tracked my performance stats, but I think I’m going to start doing that. The three big areas that I need to track are fairways, greens, and par saves from off the green. Oh, I need to start tracking my penalty shots too. Maybe the penalties aren’t swing related but strategy related, and I need to know the difference.

I don’t have any excuses. I have the time to spare and I have the means to both practice and play. I know what needs to be done, so it’s just a matter of following the plan, reaching my goals. But it all starts with practice.

You know, I wrote that 12 years ago. And it’s just as applicable today as it was back then.

It’s almost like I knew what I was talking about.

Almost.

Confidence Defined

May14 by Scott

“The toughest mental pitfall to avoid during a difficult day on the golf course is trying harder. It’s the same concept as brushing your teeth harder to get rid of an existing cavity. It doesn’t work.” – Yours Truly

Of all the things that challenge me in golf, tapping into my true inner trust is by far the most difficult. As my good friend Tim, who happens to be the head teaching professional at the course where I’ve played a majority of my golf over the years often says to me, “Playing for the miss isn’t the ideal way to play this game, Lefty. You gotta let it happen.”

Of everything that has been said about the golf swing over the years, nothing has ever been more true.

“Letting it happen” comes from a number of things. It’s a product of playing experiences that come from playing the game for a number of years. It’s having a good understanding of what exactly it is that allows your own golf swing to work naturally, and knowing precisely what your limitations are – your strengths and weaknesses. It’s being competent in assessing the situation and the conditions, and trusting your instincts as a player. And the last-but-most important thing – knowing that you’ve got both the swing and the right club to execute the shot needed.

But these player traits don’t come naturally. You’re not born with them. They’re not bundled with a package deal when you buy a new set of irons or a new driver.

These playing traits are learned through a number of years of playing rounds, devoted practice sessions and above and beyond all else – patience. You earn them through experience. There are no shortcuts, no buy-one get-one free deals, and contrary to popular belief – you can’t get them by subscribing to the Golf Channel’s instructional segments, or Golf Magazine’s tip of the month, or the well-intended suggestions from playing partners who’ve perfected the worthless art of passing along something they’ve read or heard that they themselves don’t truly understand.

“Letting it happen” occurs when you’re standing on the tee of a well-protected par3 on a windy day and you know you’ve selected the right club from the bag. It occurs when you’re so focused on your target that you don’t think about 50 different swing thoughts, or the water fronting the right side of the green. It occurs when you’re standing over a 4 footer to decide a match, but you’re not thinking about the embarrassment that might come should you miss it. It occurs when you play without fear or shame when playing with better players, and admiring your game equally as much as you admire theirs’.

That is the essence of true confidence, the ability to trust your technique, your decision making, your equipment, and your abilities as a player. That confidence is earned, it can’t be bought. You can’t earn confidence sitting at home when you could be out at the range hitting balls and working on your technique, or a quick evening practice round, or getting lessons if needed.

There are two types of golfers: those who have confidence, and those who wish they had confidence.

Which one are you?

My Time in the Game: Lemons and Lemonade

Apr30 by Scott

My first shot of the day was solid, but the slightest tug that ended up in the right rough on the opening par5. From a good lie in the first cut, I hit a nice 8iron to within 115 yards of the back hole location, dead center of the fairway. My lie in the fairway was good, and the few tufts of grass that I flung up into the wind confirmed that the wind was against me. On a normal day with calm, warm conditions the shot would normally be a stock gap wedge. But with a stiff breeze hurting and the early morning temps hovering slightly above the freezing mark, I knew that the gapper would never get there. I reached into the bag and pulled my pitching wedge, went through my routine, and hit a really nice shot that looked like it was all over the banner. Unfortunately it landed about a foot too far and ran through the back of the green, about a foot beyond the putting surface. In my mind should I have not left the ball with a good look at birdie, just through the green was the 2nd best place to be. So no complaints.

I was technically in the rough, but the ball was sitting on a subtle downward slope and the rough wasn’t much thicker than the fringe that was only a foot away. My initial impression as I approached the green was putting my 4th shot, but I brought a wedge with me just in case. I was only about 15 feet from the hole with the green gently sloping away from me, and I knew that even a so-so attempt with my putter would likely leave me much closer to the hole for my par putt than a good chip. I decided to putt the ball, and it was better than so-so. It almost went in for birdie. I tapped in the remaining 4 inches left for my par and thought to myself, “okay, today might be a little easier than I thought.”

Famous last words…

Getting everything squared away for our upcoming move to London has severely impacted my ability to practice and play like I normally would heading into the start of a golf season. Normally I’ve already got a handful of good practice sessions logged and 10 rounds or so posted toward my handicap by this time of the season. I know, I’m not getting any sympathy from most of you. I’m not really asking for any, for what it’s worth. I’m just stating the fact that I’ve got a high-maintenance golf swing that requires a lot more attention than what I’ve been able to offer it thus far this season. Of which, mind you, is why I’ve kinda lowered my expectations this year. But despite knowing that my scores are going to increase because of these things, it still makes it no easier to accept sometimes.

I hit a bad drive on the 2nd hole but somehow avoided the deep fairway bunkers on the left. From only 124 yards with a good lie in the rough, I hit a low skanky looking shot that ended up well short and right of the green. From about 45 feet, I hit a very nice pitch shot that ended up only 4 feet from the hole, and drained the short left-to-righter to save my par. I walk to the cart thinking that I’ve dodged a bullet, and still find myself clinging to the hopes of having a solid round.

From that point onward, it would be an hour before I’d get my next par. That par came as a result of a nice approach that ended up to within 10 feet of the flag on the par4 6th, as I missed the birdie. I made a routine par on the par5 8th, and then hit a beautiful green-side bunker shot on the par3 9th to within 5 feet, but missed and ended up going out in 6-over 42. It was very much a struggle the first couple of hours, but I knew that there were some opportunities on the back to make up a few shots with better play. The state of my game might not be good enough to rebound for a great round, but a respectable round was still very much in the picture.

I was able to put together some better swings on the back-nine coming in. I peppered the flag with my approach on the par4 11th, but missed the 8 footer for birdie to stay at +6. I ended up leaving my approach well away from the hole on the par5 12th, but did manage a decent 2-putt from long range to at least not give a shot away. I scrambled for another nice par on the par3 13th from just off the green, and hit only my 5th green of the day on the par4 14th, 2-putting again for another par. I narrowly missed the fairway bunkers on the uphill par4 15th, but hit my approach a little deep. From 40 feet I put an excellent stroke on the ball and watched it roll around the right side of the cup to just avoid birdie. I’m still at +6 on the round as I head to the par5 16th.

A decent tee shot, followed by a nice 3hybrid left me about 60 yards to the back hole location. I played a little bump-n-run shot (a shot that I’m trying to use more often to prepare for the occasions it’ll be needed in Europe) and I played it surprisingly well. I had about 10 feet for birdie, and after watching my playing partner stiff his approach to within 2 feet from 150 yards, I was desperately wanting to join him on the birdie train. Let it be known that in nearly 3 hours and 30 minutes after I teed off earlier, I finally made a birdie. Finally! That got me back to +5 on the round.

A bad swing would follow, however. From 145 yards and playing into a good 2-club wind, I never came close to finding the green of the par3 17th. It was essentially the same shot that I hit with my approach on the 2nd hole – ugly, short and right. I hit a great pitch shot from about 25 yards to within 2 feet, saving par. And then at the last, I hit a wicked slice that somehow managed to stay in play, albeit with the ball about 8 inches above my feet. The hole location was generous, and the yardage was perfect for a simple low-driller into the wind. I started the ball about 10 yards left of the green and watched it bend back right at the flag, probably the best shot I hit all day. I got to the green and I’ve got about 15 feet for birdie, a putt that I’ve made dozens of times here over the years. But then again – very few of those times when I made that putt were the greens slow and bumpy from aeration a few weeks earlier. Putting today was marginally better than it has been there for the past couple of weeks, but the ball still bounces hither and yon. Yet I still had a good feeling standing over that birdie putt at the last.

I was 1-under on the back, and I had a very legit chance of going out in 2-under 34. A round of 76 sounds so much better than a round of 77, at least to someone who is technically still a 3-handicapper for the time being anyway. But a round of 5-over 77 would end up being the number. My birdie putt bounced about a foot from the hole and just veered off to the right, on a putt that typically breaks to the left no less.

Going back to what I said earlier about it being difficult to accept…. I’ve found that accepting a tough round is probably the hardest part in playing the game. But I also understand the importance of being able to do that. In an experienced player’s mind – he expects to play well every round, regardless of how he played the last round out, or despite that it might’ve been 2 weeks since he last played. I’ve played the game long enough to realize that the past doesn’t equal the future, and the future doesn’t promise us anything. It’s all about what you do today.

And what I did on Sunday wasn’t really worth sharing, other than to say that at least I hung in there and kept it somewhat respectable. But most importantly – I shared the day with 2 great friends who’ve become much more to me than just weekend playing partners. We all had lunch afterward in the clubhouse and as I walked to the car with them to leave 45 minutes later, the thought occurred to me that my days with them are numbered. As much as I want to play good golf, and I really do, the feeling that one has after a good round is only as memorable as those that he shares it with.

It was a tough day, but a good day, for all the right reasons.

My Time in the Game: Winning Isn’t Happenstance

Apr28 by Scott

The sweat was dripping from my chin as I stood over what would probably appear to most as a simple garden variety 4-footer on the 18th hole. My mind was racing back and forth, doing everything in its power to ignore the significance of what potentially was only a few seconds away from happening. I backed off and walked a few paces behind my ball, took a deep breath, and leaned on my putter as I squatted down to regain a clear focus on the task at hand once again. It was a gentle right-to-left breaker, which on any other day would’ve been an absolute no-brainer; the type you could stroke just a little firmer than normal to take out any guesswork with the break and drill it dead center without a second thought.

But this day was unlike any other.

It’s in these pressure-packed moments within any sport that an athlete is conditioned to reflect on the numerous successful instances in the past in which he executed the play just as planned, as a confident image plays out in highlight mini-reel fashion in his mind. I’d never been this close to doing anything remotely this significant in golf, however. The closest comparison I could think of is when I would play with “him.”

Every significant round that I’d ever played had been with him. And on those rare occasions that I’d beat him, I felt like I had just won a major championship.

Russ and I began our friendship shortly after I moved to Western Kentucky back in the early 1990′s, and it wasn’t long after that when we decided to take up this crazy game of golf. Every week we’d play at least one round, some weeks we might even squeeze in two rounds, at this little municipal course in Paducah called Paxton Park. The greens at Paxton weren’t overly big but were notoriously fast and firm, two factors that played a significant role in both of us learning the value of a tidy short game early on in our golfing exploits. Over the next several years we would become better players and wouldn’t have to rely on our short games nearly as much as we did just starting out, but little did we know that those hot, humid summer days of grinding and sweating over difficult pitches, chips and putts would only add to the excitement and drama of our weekly battles against one another in the coming years ahead.

Russ was an exceptional athlete, having played in multiple sports in high school and college, but where he excelled most was on the basketball court. To this day I’ve never played with anyone who had as pure a jump shot from beyond the arc as he did, and although I didn’t have to ever remind him of this (like most good athletes – he seldom lacked confidence), but had he been just 4 inches taller – he most likely could’ve signed on with just about any Division I school in the country. Fortunately for me, however, he was only 6 feet tall and instead of chasing a life of fame and fortune in some big city beyond his college days, he ended up settling in this sleepy little town in Western Kentucky called Lone Oak, which is essentially where our friendship started. So even though he was obviously more athletically gifted than I was in most other sports, in golf I felt a lot closer to being his equal. At least in my own mind anyway, despite usually coming up on the short end of our weekly matches.

All of the significant accomplishments that both of us enjoyed early on in our golf experiences came in the company of the other. When he broke 80 for the first time, which was about a year before I accomplished the feat myself, we were playing together. I remember that day most vividly, because it was also the very same round that I joined the ranks of the exclusive hole-in-one club, courtesy of an 8iron from 145 yards. He would go on to break 80 several more times that season, and although I would get painstakingly close – my only consolation was that maybe he had no other choice but to break 80 if he expected to beat me. Well, that and the fact that within 6 weeks of carding my first career ace – I would card another one at the very course that he and I basically cut our golfing teeth on. Russ wasn’t with me that day, but another good friend of mine (and a pretty good golfer at that) Brian was with me when I got my 2nd hole-in-one. Having two good friends like Russ and Brian as witnesses to such a memorable time in my golf life made it all the sweeter, and although we don’t talk as much as we used to, we still try to keep in touch from time to time.

Playing with Russ over the years planted a competitive seed within me that wouldn’t bear fruit until many years later, long after we played our last full season together as regular golfing buddies. Not that I didn’t have the ability to be competitive, but winning certainly wasn’t a concept that drove my extracurricular ambitions to higher standards of excellence. At that time in my life, my golfing personality was much more reserved and laid back, which probably had as much to do with recognizing my novice level of skill as anything else. But I admired the passion that Russ played with, a passion that didn’t just extend to golf or sports in general, but even with something as trivial as a card game on a Saturday night. Looking back on what specifically made him such a good athlete, and even more importantly what enabled him to become very successful in his career over the years, it became apparent that his confident attitude and his desire to be the best at everything he did in life were the real catalysts of his enormous ambition.

So when those rare instances came when I did manage to beat him, whether it was in golf, tennis, or hoops – all of those qualities he possessed made the experience much more rewarding and memorable for me. In all of those years we played sports together, he taught me the value in having more confidence than your opponent, but more importantly – the importance of having more heart.

As life has a way of doing sometimes, and most of the time as it happens when we least expect it, the paths that bring two people together long enough to develop a close friendship eventually separate and head in totally different directions. Back in the summer of 1999, I’ll never forget the sadness and the awkwardness of having to tell my best friend in the world that in a matter of just a few months I would be moving 1000 miles away. Although the game of golf formed the foundation of our friendship early on, we’d become much more to each other than just regular golf buddies. Our families became close, our kids did things together on the weekends, we’d get babysitters and take our wives out for dinner dates and shopping trips to the malls. When one of us had a home project that needed an extra pair of hands – it was just expected that the other would be there when the need arose. All of the miles we drove together going on golf trips to Myrtle Beach, St. Louis, Tennessee, and elsewhere over the years – all of those memories became permanent fixtures of an important time in my life.

There are significant life events that one never forgets. December 27th, 1999 would mark one of the most significant for me, as two families stood in a driveway in the wee morning hours and shared a few memories, laughs, tears and hugs just moments before a 16-hour journey to the Northeast would officially begin a new chapter in life for one of them. As I pulled out of the driveway and drove down the street, I watched them continue to wave in my rearview mirror until I could see them no more. The empty feeling that came over me at that precise moment was indescribable, and that emptiness remained long after we’d settled in and got accustomed to a new life in the Northeast.

There have been a number of instances over the years that I’ve found that old, “better to have loved” adage to be painfully true, although nothing was lost with my friendship with Russ. He and I still talk from time to time despite the 1000 miles between us, and I’ve also enjoyed a few annual golf trips with him over the years since. Given my life-changing situation that blessed me with an abundance of time to devote to improving my golf game over the past decade, and the fact that his career and family life have only demanded more of his time and energy, the competitive golfing scale that for many years tipped the balance in his favor now leans to mine. He doesn’t play nearly as much golf as he used to, of which he readily admits each time we talk, but embedded somewhere deep within all of the trappings of a hectic life still lies the spirit of a competitive warrior whose winning attitude proved contagious.

As I wiped the sweat from my brow and took one last look at the remaining 4 feet left that Sunday afternoon on the final hole, my mind reflected back to those old days gone by on the course with Russ. I seldom had an opportunity to close out our match on the 18th hole by virtue of a simple 4-footer for par, but it was always the goal at the start of each round I played with him. Although he was 1000 miles away that hot summer day back in August of 2009, in my mind he was leaning on his putter as he stood 10 feet away watching and waiting to see if I was brave enough to close him out.

I stepped back over the ball, gave the hole one last look, and somehow managed to take the putter back on the perfect line with the perfect pace, and I stroked it into the heart of the cup to become my club’s Champion Golfer that year, the amateur equivalent of winning a major championship.

The only possible thing that would’ve made that accomplishment more fulfilling was if my old golf buddy had been there pushing me the entire way.

Then again, in my mind he was.

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