"Golf can best be defined as an endless series of tragedies obscured by the occasional miracle."
You've all read my last blog post (The Approach), and now you're all bursting with anticipation. You're dying to know how my first round of the season went. Well my friends, it was not pretty. I fell well short of my goal of breaking 90. And as much as I'd love to give you a shot for shot retelling of the traumatic events, I will instead provide you with the major moments.
I'm always nervous on the first shot of the first hole of the season. Everyone's watching and I'm terrified that I'll hit a horrendous golf shot. Not only did I hit 1 horrendous golf shot, I actually hit 2 horrendous golf shots back-to-back. Dumped the first one out of bounds into the trees then dumped the second one even further out of bounds into the trees. A far cry from what I had been doing the day before on the practice range.
Eventually, I was able to improve from God-awful to below average. There were even a couple of semi-decent shots in there. Coupled of course with the, "I can't believe I just did that," shots.
But then a very interesting thing happened at the 15th hole. At this point, it was obvious that I wasn't going to reach my goal. Not even close to it. So I mentally gave up and ceased to care about what would happen. And you know what? I started to swing the club better. I started to hit better shots more consistently. I started to play like I had practiced.
So I guess the lesson is, you can practice and practice and practice all you want, but eventually, when you get out there, you've got to let go and trust it.
Final score: 109 (that's bad even for me)
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