The Beautiful Game Called Life and Golf

People that know me well are always frustrated with my golf analogies. A single conversation may yield two or three different golf stories that somehow, according to me at least, relate to the topic. The truth is, I believe the game of golf is similar to life. I know that any individual can learn a lot about themselves and life’s lessons through a single 18-hole round. Being a regular player of the game myself, I can recite an endless number of stories about how golf made me who I am. One day in particular, I made a decision that I realized would impact me for the rest of my life.

The desire to impress overtook me my first years in the sport. All my relatives wanted me to preform well, especially my dad. I cannot count the number of times I wrote a four instead of a five, a five instead of a six, and so on. I never really thought about it as cheating. I “should have gotten” a four. The putt barely missed! That tree was in my way! Every time I played golf, I wanted the best score, whether I deserved it or not.

Fast forwarding a year or so, I found myself ready to play competitive golf. This would be a new animal. My father warned me that the competition would be rough, and it was not the same as a Saturday afternoon with some friends. Come to find out he was right. My playing partners would not talk to me; I could defiantly feel a negative presence. It was as if they wanted me to do poorly. This increased my desire to do well – to show up these kids that believed they walked on water.

I feel terrible looking back, and it is embarrassing to admit, but the first day of this tournament I did not shoot what my score says I did. When I could not find my ball, instead of taking a drop or going back to the tee, I would palm a ball, and place it in grass when theotherswere not looking. I do not remember how many times the magic eraser came out to remove an “unnecessary” stroke.

When I was recounting my story of my first tournament round to my father, he realized the numbers did not add up. I received a lecture. I knew it was not fair to the kids that played 100% by the rules, but I also knew that there were other kids that were doing the same thing. My dad helped me realize that becoming a better golfer, and person, meant always telling the truth, even when it is hard. In order to improve as an athlete I have to be honest with myself. The only person I was cheating was me. It hit me hard. My dad was right, and I did not want to disappoint him. I knew when I had my first great round of golf I wanted it to be legitimate, but changes do not happen overnight.

The next day was a perfect day for golf. It was the second round of the Antigua Milt Coggins Stroke Play Tournament, and I was ready to try out the count-every-stroke idea. I played fairly well through the first eight holes. I stepped up to the ninth tee box excited to finish a great front side. I left the club face open at impact and sent my ball flying down the right hand side, sailing toward the out of bounds fence. I began to sweat. This could cost me a great front nine, and possibly a top 20 finish. Walking up, I found my ball under a tree. I breathed a sigh of relief and finished out the hole. When I reached down into the cup, I pulled out a ball with three red dots – my ball had two green dots. At that moment, I knew I had two choices: I could accept the two stroke penalty, or act like nothing was wrong.

It was one of the harder decisions to sacrifice my front nine for the righteousness of the game, but it was something that had to be done if I wanted to grow as an individual. I have worked this lesson into my life today. Not only am I honest on the golf course, but also more honest with the little things. I avoid white lies like the plague now. The best thing that came out of this was how I feel about myself. I swear I stand a little taller now. People know what I say is what I mean, and that respect is priceless The decision to play fair is one of the best decisions I have ever made.