“Love your dream until it loves you back.”- Nike
Along the journey, there have been many firsts. Some good, some bad, some ugly, but all important.
This past Monday and Tuesday, I experienced a new first, one that I hope and plead will offer me some useful feedback for the future.
Because instead of spending a few days in North Carolina with my family and friends, I chose to test myself against my peers across the state of Mississippi.
And I failed miserably.
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I arrived to the golf course at 11:15am Monday for my 12:36pm tee time excited, nervous, and cautiously optimistic. Though the vast majority of my time over the past few months had been spent as a manager and teacher instead of a player, I still knew how to play. But for every scorcher I had, I had three stinkers. But I knew it was in there.
Unfortunately for me, most of my peers experience the opposite, three scorchers for every stinker, plus a lifetime of experience. But I wasn’t playing them, I was playing the golf course, and I was playing myself.
I started fine, parring the first four holes and then making a good bogey on five. Then, inexplicably, I fell apart, and less than an hour later, I was seven over par. Then, the literal storm came, pausing the figurative storm for two hours and 53 minutes. Two hours and 53 minutes of nothing. I became stiff, hungry, and disinterested. I texted my family in North Carolina. Given the circumstances, I definitely wish I was there. With eight holes still to play, we resumed play at 5:45pm. On the way back out, I stopped by the bar. Give me all your snacks. I’m starving. I was truly pondering doing an Uber Eats order for barbecue. But I digress.
We finally finished our 18 holes at 7:36pm, seven hours to the minute after we started. I shot 84, good for next to last, and I lost my rangefinder. One of my playing partners shot 85, good for worst, and my other playing partner finished the round barefooted. (Don’t ask.) Certainly a day I will never forget.
I wondered what I was missing in North Carolina.
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After grabbing a sandwich, I arrived home at roughly 9pm. My tee time Tuesday morning was at 8am, and it takes me a minimum of three hours to get my body going in the morning. The good news was that I had very little time to reflect on the nightmare of a day.
I was among the first back to the golf course Tuesday. I am a professional, so I will act as such. But what I really wanted to do was fly to North Carolina and soak in my sister’s pool. My body felt like it had been hit by a truck, and I wondered how in the world I was going to hit a golf ball today.
Luckily, or unluckily, it only took two holes to answer that question. After an 8 on my second hole, my round was over before it began. But I’m a professional, so I will act as such, and I strung together a couple of birdies and a few good stretches between the horrible holes. I shot 85, good for a two day total of 169.
Dead freaking last. That’s a new one.
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After a four hour nap that afternoon, I had dinner with my boss Tuesday night. Always supportive of me and my insane goals, he offered me this friendly reminder. When I was shooting in the high 60s and low 70s, I was practicing for hours every day. Now, I operate a wildly popular golf course. I teach and coach all afternoon long and help others get better. I take my son to Pelicans games and collect sports cards. I eat dinner with my family. I travel. My body is older and stiffer. The amount of hours I practice now is very different. Thus, the results are different.
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It’s been a long, long time since I’ve seen my name at the bottom of any leaderboard. Maybe once or twice in childhood sports, and I fixed that. Maybe once or twice as a banker, and I fixed that.
So even though it sucks to finish last, the experience provided me some excellent feedback.
Change something, so this never happens again.
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Have a great week.-Benj
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