I have a tattoo on my right tricep that says, dream big. I’m certain that when I got that tattoo, I thought to myself: dream big, work hard, achieve said dream. What I never thought about was that the simple act of dreaming big could lead to something beyond my wildest dreams.

—

Never in a million years did I think I would spend twenty or so random nights each year in New Orleans, Louisiana, one of the most culturally unique and culinary obsessed cities in the world. Never. Yet here we are, back for another season of Nights in New Orleans, the 2023-2024 edition.

It just kind of happened. Proximity to my new home. My love for cities. Creative food and drink. NBA basketball. My endless appetite for the spice of life. From October to March two to three times a month, the city keeps me jazzed up. As the darkness sets in, the gumbo heats up.

—

For outsiders like me who didn’t grow up close to New Orleans, the city is thought of more as a destination. Think Mardi Gras (been twice), the Super Bowl, and JazzFest (been once), not a random Tuesday night. That’s why I have to laugh to myself now and again, usually on the drive home, usually with a full belly, usually with my son chattering at me or sound asleep in the back seat.

The logistics of these nights are simple. They are typically Monday or Tuesday night, though I will entertain other nights for more exciting matchups. They require about seven hours of time, $150 to $200, and an open mind and empty belly. Let’s do Lebron and pizza. Let’s do Luka and seafood. Let’s do Giannis and soul food.

Dream big.

—

Last year, Christy, Banks, and I went to Mardi Gras. Banks and I (and sometimes granddaddy) went to twelve Pelicans games. Christy and I ate until we were blue in the face for my birthday. I flew out of there a few times. I played a couple of golf tournaments in the general vicinity. It’s wild to go to a once in a lifetime place twice a month, but that’s the new routine. (The new routine that is anything but routine.)

I hope to make that about fifteen games this year. Fifteen new restaurants. Fifteen interesting meals. Fifteen chances to watch ball with my son.

—

The brilliance of these nights is that most of them are unplanned. That’s why I haven’t bought any of the partial season ticket packages that the team constantly emails me. I love the variety and playing the game too much. Most of the time, I buy tickets and choose that evening’s restaurant on the ride over to The Big Easy. I’m feeling like being close to the action and Cajun food or I want a good deal on tickets and a roast beef po’ boy.

Never in a million years. Seriously. But here we are. We did it again last Tuesday. Paolo and ribeye tacos. I’d love to do opening night next week vs. the Knicks, but I have a conflict. But the following Monday, now that poses a real abk question.

What type of food pairs best with Steph Curry, Klay Thompson, and CP3?

—

Have a great week.-Benj

Join the abk community!

Follow along on Instagram @anythingbutkhakis, @abkgolf, and @anythingbutkhakisphotography.

If you enjoy these and would like to get the weekly piece via email, please follow on the website http://www.anythingbutkhakis.com.

“I ran my second NYC Marathon back in 2018 almost completely with my mind.”- Benj

Over the past couple of months, I have taken an online class at Harvard called Managing Happiness, listened to multiple podcasts in a series called Mind Games, begun reading a book called Fearless Golf, and studied for a week out in Texas under multiple PGA Master Professionals.

I did some of this for me. I did some of this to help my ever growing and ever improving list of students. I did all of this because my fascination with the intangibles of life is as high as ever. Happiness. Mental strength. Emotional control. Confidence. Concentration. Commitment. Joy. Risk. Fear. Resilience. Grit. Stamina.

Did I really run over twenty six miles almost entirely with my mind?

—

Six or seven years ago, with the help of my good friend Junior, I made a pact with myself that from that day forward, I was going to own my life story. Things that I wanted to do, I would do them. Things that I could not control or that didn’t matter, I would not think twice about them. Things I could control, I would control. And irrational fears, I would work to eliminate them.

Once I made the conscious decision to own my life story, I got to work immediately with much success. Through lots of daily, intentional, and internal work, I got better at all of the things above.

But when I started the golf journey, even as I got better and better, I noticed something very strange. This game, especially when played at a high level, is loaded with irrational fears. How could I be more afraid of missing a putt than of the eight foot alligator lying a few yards away?

There was work to be done.

—

There are an infinite number of takeaways from these last couple of months of observing and listening to such high level thinking, but my favorite nugget was, You have a lot more control of your life (and golf game) than you think you do.

Much of this control stems from how good your mental and emotional stamina is, and what you are doing to improve it.

For years as an athletic but undersized teenager, I had to outsmart my opponents. As I matured into a more physical specimen, I had to rely less on the mental, yet it always remained clearly in the back of my mind as something that was important.

For years, I thought there was something wrong with me because I rarely showed outward emotion. Throughout the journey, I’ve acknowledged and worked to improve certain pieces of this, but having the ability to control my emotions remained clearly in the back of my mind as something that was important.

Just because I don’t show it doesn’t mean I can’t feel it.

—

My favorite part of teaching golf is when my student and I get to the point when it is time to tackle the mental and emotional side of the game. When we’ve gotten passed the angles and tempos of the swing into the good stuff: the mind and the heart. When we stand on the tee box of a hole with sand and water, I ask them what they see. Inevitably, they then ask what I see, and our answers are rarely the same.

In the same way that I ran that marathon with my mind, I tell most of my students that my ability to get better over the past four plus years is primarily due to mental and emotional stamina, and that their ability to progress further in the future will have so much to do with their mental and emotional stamina.

They ask me how it’s done. What do you do? What do you practice? I tell them that I consciously practice thinking positive thoughts. I rarely ever just go through the motions. I don’t compare myself to anyone. I understand risk and reward. I consciously practice grit. I actively manage myself. I work to focus on the right things at the right time. I work to ignore those things that are irrelevant. In short, I actively practice all things mental and emotional as I know I have control over all these things.

It takes practice to be in control of your emotions. It takes practice to be in control of your mind. You must take care of your mental and emotional prowess just as you would your body. Just like you were practicing your swing or putting stroke. A massive portion of expansion of self, personal growth, the process, and the journey takes place in the mind.

Getting better is a conscious skill and activity.

—

I’ve played and taught enough golf now that I’m no longer afraid of that putt. It either goes in or it doesn’t, and my life goes on either way. So what was I so afraid of? Was there something to be afraid of? Or had I just not done enough of the work yet?

—

Have a great week.-Benj

Join the abk community!

Follow along on Instagram @anythingbutkhakis, @abkgolf, and @anythingbutkhakisphotography.

If you enjoy these and would like to get the weekly piece via email, please follow on the website http://www.anythingbutkhakis.com.

By design, I live a very full life. It’s not overly insane. It’s not overly stressful. It’s just very full (and fulfilling). That’s the whole point. I have places I want to experience, people I want to interact with, teams I want to see play, and foods I want to eat. In the past, my desire to experience all of these things may have caused me to overlook an opportunity so brilliant in its simplicity. So obvious. So normal.

But if abk promotes on thing, when it’s time to adjust, I better make the adjustment. Or else I miss my own message.

—

I love being a dad. It’s my favorite thing in the entire world. In some senses, I’m a very normal dad. I take my daughter to day care every day, I take my son to soccer practice twice a week, and I wear dad shoes (shoutout to arthritis). In other respects, I am a very abnormal dad. I work every Saturday and Sunday, I still possess and act on a myriad of personal interests, and I would rather take my son on a sports trip to Detroit or Los Angeles than down the street to the park to play. For better or worse, it’s who I am.

So when a multitude of interesting and exciting opportunities sprouted up in the general timeframe of my daughter’s second birthday last week, I was pleased as punch that my immediate internal reaction was, I just want to be completely present for her birthday.

—

Still nursing a happy hangover from my recent father/son trip to Los Angeles, it came to my attention that the incredible Dave Chappelle was going to be performing a show in New Orleans last Friday. Better yet, tickets were actually affordable. Even better, they were actually available. I love Dave Chappelle, but not as much as I love my daughter. As I did the time math in my head (get home at midnight Friday night + get up at 4:45am Saturday morning to open the golf course + drive 1.5 hours Saturday afternoon to birthday party + actually be present and engaged at said party), I didn’t like the odds.

As I mulled Dave Chappelle over, I also had an interesting conversation with my parents who live just outside of Charlotte, NC, where I previously lived my entire life. During the conversation, my mom (I think abk has rubbed off on her) told me I should jump on a plane Sunday night, fly home to Charlotte, and go to the Panthers-Saints Monday Night Football Game with my dad. I jokingly told my mom she was becoming a bad influence, told them that idea hadn’t even crossed my mind, then briefly considered it before politely declining the offer.

All I want to do is be fully present for my two year old daughter’s birthday.

—

I did not go see Dave Chappelle. Instead, I had plenty of energy available to spend with my little Cutie Toot on the eve of her second birthday.

I did not fly to Charlotte to watch the Panthers-Saints play Monday Night Football. Instead, I took my son to soccer practice. And then we all watched both my Panthers AND my Cleveland Browns lose on Monday Night’s Double Feature.

If I had flown home to watch that nonsense…

—

Life is good right now. It really is. My biggest problem remains that I have so many things I want to do and not enough time to do all of them. My second biggest problem is that, as I mentioned earlier, I work every Saturday. It comes with the territory of being a golf professional at a beautiful, very popular golf course. However, my son’s soccer season has just started, and most of the games are on Saturday.

During their opening tournament two weekends ago, his team played six games across Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, and I miraculously got to go to three of them. I felt like a kid on Christmas morning. This coming weekend is their first regular game, and I just found out they play Saturday at 3pm, which I can totally make.

I feel like I just won the lottery.

—

Have a great week.-Benj

Join the abk community!

Follow along on Instagram @anythingbutkhakis, @abkgolf, and @anythingbutkhakisphotography.

If you enjoy these and would like to get the weekly piece via email, please follow on the website http://www.anythingbutkhakis.com.

“Life is not a spectator sport.” – the great Jackie Robinson

We had to wait 2.5 hours for a rental car upon our arrival in LA, but when the gentleman pointed us to a Ford Mustang GT 5.0, all was forgiven.

When we finally left the rental car riff-raff, we had to fight Beyoncé traffic. And Prince Harry traffic.

We went straight to Dodger Stadium from the airport. Dodgers-Braves round one. It was my favorite event from the trip.

I loved the stadium. I loved the vibe. The Braves were great. But the Kobe Bryant drone light show after the game was out of this world.

We checked into our hotel in Burbank around midnight, so we slept in Saturday morning.

On the west coast, college football is on television at 9am. I thought we had slept until noon.

LA Sports Cards was right across the street from our hotel. Half sports, half Pokémon. My son was stoked.

I walked in wearing a Zion jersey. They had that same jersey on the wall. That started the nearly two hour long conversation.

My son had $170 of his own money to spend. He spent all but $9 of that on cards, which he joyfully played with while we watched TCU vs. Colorado on television.

The Hollywood Sign is The Hollywood Sign. I’d seen it before, but it’s just cool.

I drove the Mustang down Sunset Blvd., and it roared like a lion.

Going to The Rose Bowl was all about the stadium. I could care less about UCLA football.

My official order at In N Out Burger is a double-double, spread only, add pickles. Hits the spot every time.

Chicago-style hot dogs beat the socks off of Dodger Dogs. Not even close.

Dodgers-Braves round two was Sunday afternoon. We got down on the field. Banks ran the bases.

When that game was over, we headed over to USC to watch our first WNBA game. So much fun. It was my son’s favorite thing we did.

We both really liked the in-game DJ, DJ Mal-Ski.

When that was over, Messi was playing right down the street. Tickets would have cost me $2,100. I begrudgingly passed.

We went to an old school pizza joint to wash away the pain of not seeing Messi. By all accounts, it worked.

The swimming pool area of our hotel was so picturesque. I can see why so many movies and television shows have filmed there.

I wanted to see the Friends set. Banks wanted to see Harry Potter world. We both wanted to see The Big Bang Theory set.

Anaheim was a very pleasant suburb. The stadium was pleasant. The people were pleasant. But nothing spectacular.

Ohtani injured himself during pregame batting practice, so that was a bummer. So we just watched a normal Angels vs. Orioles game without the star of the show.

I got to make a custom Angels hat with cool patches, so that was dope.

Every stadium we went to had mountains as the backdrop. It was 70 degrees and usually around sunset. My heaven.

I saw more Teslas during these five days than I have seen cumulatively in my life.

We made it to Venice Beach to shoot ball before we had to get on the plane Tuesday. Have no fear, this white man still can’t jump.

Five sporting events. A movie studio tour. Two trips to Hollywood. Two trips to LA Sports Cards. Shooting baskets at the beach.

I feel very confident that this young tradition in its second year could last a lifetime. Every Labor Day weekend.

Sports trip? Surely you know it’s more than that.

—

Have a great week.-Benj

Join the abk community!

Follow along on Instagram @anythingbutkhakis, @abkgolf, and @anythingbutkhakisphotography.

If you enjoy these and would like to get the weekly piece via email, please follow on the website http://www.anythingbutkhakis.com.

“If you are not willing to change, you will not get better.”- one of my master instructors last week

Have you ever had the opportunity to meet someone at the absolute pinnacle of their craft? As a huge fan of sports, I immediately think of Michael Jordan, Tiger Woods, or Lebron James. But those are the sexy names. Have you ever thought about who is the best writer in the world? Or the best interior decorator? Or the best maker of sunglasses?

If you aspired to make sunglasses, how awesome would it be to spend an hour, a day, or an entire week with that person?

That’s what happened to me last week.

—

For the past four years in the golf world, I have been the least experienced person in every room and on every course as it relates to aspiring golfers, golf instructors, and golf professionals. The room last week in Frisco, Texas was no different as I spent the week with eighteen peers aspiring to be something more.

I haven’t used this word much because it isn’t used much anymore, but in retrospect, I’ve really been an apprentice for the past few years, on a mission to learn an exorbitant amount of information through listening, observing, and getting thrown into the fire. I brought a wealth of life experience into my position, so don’t let me fool you, but as it relates to golf, I was a forty year old apprentice.

As we introduced ourselves to each other on the first day of the seminar, I briefly told my story. They asked what my ultimate goal was, and I confidently told them I had no idea. How can I have any idea what my ceiling is when I am learning something new every single day? When I am experimenting and trying something new every single day?

—

“Be curious, not judgmental.”- Ted Lasso

Though the number I found varies, for simplicity’s sake, let’s say that there are only 400 master professionals in the world. Last week in Frisco, Texas, I got to spend five days with two of them. As the name implies, they are the best of the best, and with as many years of experience as I have been alive, the wealth of knowledge is astounding.

What struck me most, though, was that even though they were at the top of their fields, they were hellbent on the process of learning more. (Wonder how they got to the top of their field?) I felt so energized in their presence. They had ten stories for every question that was asked. But the real treat for me, other than the Texas Twinkie from nearby Hutchins BBQ, was the thirty minute lesson I got from each of them regarding my personal golf game.

—

For the past almost twelve months, something has been slightly off in my game. It’s been diagnosed, kind of fixed, rediagnosed, sort of fixed, over and over. But something is still wrong.

Never one to miss an opportunity and certainly not ashamed of my flaws, I jumped at the chance to get a free lesson with each of them, something that would usually involve a waitlist and upwards of $500. I couldn’t wait to hear what they observed and how that information would be communicated to me.

Would it be my swing path? Or my wrist angles? Or the shafts in my club? The answer was not just no, but hell no. As only a true master of his universe could tell me, my instructor said Ben, your feet are too close together. You’re 6’4”. This Texas wind is about to blow you over. How can you expect to swing as fast as you do with such a narrow foundation? And that was that.

He gave me homework. We discussed how the change felt. He talked to me as a human being. And then I hammered a handful of balls into that beautiful Texas sky.

My feet were too far apart? He diagnosed that in thirty seconds, and one week later, when performed correctly, I’m hitting the ball better than ever. A master, indeed.

—

As we shared thoughts with each other throughout the week, I pondered what I might tell everyone that would be beneficial for them to hear. When the moment was right, I shared with the whole room that this entire process is a journey of getting better. Not a journey of comparing yourself versus Tiger Woods, or yourself versus a master teaching professional, or even yourself versus me. It’s about ARE YOU GETTING BETTER, measured daily, monthly, and over a larger period of time.

I’m not going to be an apprentice for much longer. I’ve told my parents to circle a date on the calendar next year. But that’s really just semantics. For a curious person like me, the apprenticeship really never ends. Learn more. Get better. Pay it forward.

—

Have a great week.-Benj

Join the abk community!

Follow along on Instagram @anythingbutkhakis, @abkgolf, and @anythingbutkhakisphotography.

If you enjoy these and would like to get the weekly piece via email, please follow on the website http://www.anythingbutkhakis.com.

Just over two years ago, I started my new career as an assistant golf professional in coastal Mississippi. I knew absolutely nothing about the golf industry, but I am a curious guy and quick learner, so what the heck?

The second half of July at our course, I quickly learned, is very busy with tournaments, so I got thrown right into the fire. I helped where I could, observed and asked lots of questions, but I really didn’t feel like I was of much assistance.

At one point, while our general manager, head professional at the time, and other assistant professional were busy in the weeds of the event, they asked me to handle the very simple task of preparing the scoreboard for the tournament.

I didn’t know that such a seemingly simple duty could be done so wrong by such a seemingly competent individual…me. I did everything wrong. The markers I used were wrong. The font was wrong. The spacing was wrong. The size was wrong. Two plus years later, I laugh and laugh. But at the time, I remember feeling a tad defeated. I can’t even get a scoreboard right.

—

We host this same tournament at the same time every year, so this year was my third time around the block. It’s a two day event with 128 players each day and involves lots of moving parts, but it’s similar in its operation year over year. However, there is one major difference over the past three years. Year 1, I screwed up a scoreboard. Year 3, I’m in charge of running the whole damn thing.

In the ten days leading up to the tournament, I have lots of responsibilities. Some days, I show up in street clothes to paint hazards and boundaries on the course. Other days I meet with our general manager to ensure that all parties are on the same page with how all of the food and drink will be served. Some days I need to understand and communicate the other particulars. It’s not rocket science, but there are a lot of moving parts.

On the days of the event, the checklist is long, but it’s no different than loan closing day from my past career in banking. Make sure the golf course is set up correctly, the driving range is ready, the carts are ready, the food and beverage operation is ready, create a festive vibe, on and on. This is slightly more difficult when my right hand tournament man is down with Covid, as was the case this past weekend, but the rest of the crew stepped up.

Again, none of this is brain surgery, but they are all things that had to be learned. 25 months on, I am no expert, but I have learned so much by just jumping in the deep end.

It’s a fine line when pursuing something so new and foreign. On the one hand, you just dive in, get a few things wrong, learn so much from it, and improve immensely. On the other hand, you get so many things wrong that it kills your confidence before you really get started. I’ve experienced this feeling with becoming a golf professional, becoming a teacher and coach, and becoming a tournament player. It’s a fine line.

In industries where getting things wrong isn’t life or death, I’m a big believer in getting the reps. Lucky for me, I did not pursue rocket science. Only golf.

—

When people ask me what my favorite and least favorite things about becoming a golf professional are, I answer very quickly. I don’t love marking the golf course in 100 degree heat, and I hate making scoreboards. I hate it.

So I am thankful to my team that did the tough work this year. The tough work of writing peoples’ names in a reasonable size in a reasonable font that I just can’t seem to get right.

—

Have a great week.-Benj

Join the abk community!

Follow along on Instagram @anythingbutkhakis, @abkgolf, and @anythingbutkhakisphotography.

If you enjoy these and would like to get the weekly piece via email, please follow on the website http://www.anythingbutkhakis.com.

It could have easily been the pizza at local favorite Pequod’s Pizza, but it wasn’t.

It could have easily been the family boat ride on Lake Michigan, but it wasn’t.

It could have easily been the beautiful skyline views, but it wasn’t.

It could have easily been the 90th minute winner at Soldier Field, but it wasn’t.

It could have easily been the 36 hole walk at North Shore Country Club, eating, drinking, making birdies and new friends, but it wasn’t.

It could have easily been taking my kids, one in my arm and one by my side, into a liquor store on the north side of Chicago to get Mama a bottle of wine, but it wasn’t. (But it was close.)

No, without a shadow of a doubt, the moment of the trip was Wrigley Field. Red Sox at Cubs. Sunday afternoon. 1:20pm first pitch. Perfect weather. When the two gentlemen, one playing acoustic guitar and one playing saxophone, started playing God Bless America, it was on. When the 35,000+, myself included, started singing along, it was really on. I looked down at my son and thought, It just doesn’t get any better.

—

Roughly two hours earlier, minutes after parking in some secret garage that made me wonder if the car was going to still be there after the game, I saw a sign that read Kids Run the Bases Today. Intrigued, we set off on a mission to make this happen. When we arrived to the sign up area, we were greeted with corn hole boards and a giant television showing the Wimbledon final. We played. We watched. We signed up. Then it was time to enter the cathedral.

The first order of business was to get a Cubs hat. Next, a program. Next, Chicago hot dogs.

If we were going to do a Cubs game, then we were going to do it right. At first glimpse, I was in love. The atmosphere was buzzing. It was a perfect mix of old school and modern. Hell, as an homage to the history of the game, I scored the game real time on a paper scorecard. I felt like it was 1950.

But the stars of the show were the two musicians that got the party started. Their rendition of God Bless America and The Star Spangled Banner, accompanied by all of us, brought chills to my arms and tears to my eyes. When done correctly, they are still the best hype songs to get the action underway correctly.

In a remarkable coincidence, the Cubs starting pitcher was from Lucedale, Mississippi, a town 45 minutes from where we live. Unfortunately, he got rocked. We saw multiple home runs, a grand slam, and before we knew it the score was 11-0 Red Sox. On the flip side, the Sox pitcher was brilliant, striking out nine and only giving up one hit. The pitching legend Rick Sutcliffe led us in Take Me Out to the Ballgame, and then things got a little weird for the last two innings.

—

I had told Christy that we would be back around a certain time, and at this point, we were right on schedule. But inexplicably, the last two innings featured a pitcher’s first outing in the major leagues, five runs that didn’t matter, and a backup catcher throwing 35mph lob balls from the mound, a la The Floater from the movie Rookie of the Year. Entertaining, yes. Time consuming, also yes. I mean, my son still had the bases to run.

An hour later, it was time to go down on the field, a tittilating, yet chaotic experience for sure. What a wonderfully surprising way to end what was already such a great experience, a true modern throwback of a day.

—

Big Tony (not his real name) at the liquor store looked at me with a puzzled look. Hey! What’s going on here? He was referring to the one year old in my arm, the eight year old by my side, and the twist top bottle of wine fancy enough for an I’m late apology but not too fancy to be drunk from a hotel plastic cup in my right hand.

Here’s the situation, I said. Me and my boy just went to the Cubs game earlier while Mama stayed with this one. The game went a little longer than anticipated, and then he got to go down on the field and run the bases. Mama is slightly annoyed, so here we are. Please help.

As if Big Tony and I had known each other for decades, he laughed, rang me up, and asked me if it was worth it. Before I could say a word, my son emphatically answered Yes, and that was that.

I thanked the clerk for his understanding as I giggled to myself. Who knew that an already epic day would now have a new ending? Instead of finishing when my son touched home plate at Wrigley, the story would now end at a liquor store on the north side of Chicago.

With one child in my arm and one child by my side.

—

Have a great week.-Benj

Join the abk community!

Follow along on Instagram @anythingbutkhakis, @abkgolf, and @anythingbutkhakisphotography.

If you enjoy these and would like to get the weekly piece via email, please follow on the website http://www.anythingbutkhakis.com.

“Life comes at you in all its unanticipated and startling particulars; the thing that makes you an artist is the way you respond.”- GQ, Zach Baron

Two pieces ago, I wrote about how the time between Valentine’s Day and my birthday in May had become insanely busy for me, something I would never have anticipated in this new lifestyle. I believe I compared it to being an accountant in tax season.

In my last piece, I wrote about a very poor performance in my most recent golf tournament due to physical soreness, mental exhaustion, and poor practice habits. The two pieces are obviously related, but more importantly, the poor performance was a great piece of feedback that another adjustment along the abk journey was needed.

—

Designing a one-of-a-kind lifestyle is exciting as hell, but with the prevalence of so many unknowns, it requires endless patience and ability to adjust both mindset and action. Certain macro adjustments regarding a change in geography, change in career, and a growing family are obvious. Other micro changes are less obvious and require a completely open mindset and willingness to adapt, lest the journey hit a wall.

In fact, I HAVE hit a wall. I’m not afraid to say it. I have improved and improved and improved, and I’ve endured the expected plateaus multiple times. But right now, right at this exact second, I’m a little bit stuck. Not in all aspects, but in the one that is most important to my quality of life AND to the success of my new lifestyle.

—

So many things are good in my personal life right now, but living with a constantly sore body, more sore than usual, blunts much of the goodness.

So many things are good in my professional life right now, but not being able to consistently practice my own golf game when I am fresh blunts much of the goodness.

So far this year, my tournament scoring average is five whole strokes higher than last year. Intellectually, I know what I need to be working on, but after eight hours of helping run a very popular golf course and two more hours of teaching, my brain and body want to go home. It irritates me to no end that I know what I need to be doing, but that some days, I am physically unable to do it (25+ years now).

Due to the growth at the course, growth of my teaching business, and all of my varying interests, I find myself at a crossroads. Can anything I am doing be dropped? Sure. I could cut out lots of stuff that is meaningful and that I enjoy, but there is very little riff-raff left to eliminate. Well then, when is my available time? 5-8am and 8-9pm.

—

My brain loves 5-8am, but my body does not. However, in the name of hopes, dreams, physical comfort, and golf progress, it’s time to make another change. The good news is that I know what it takes to be an elite athlete. Been there, done that with soccer. The bad news is that my body was twenty years younger and I had no responsibilities.

But the second piece of good news is that I want it more than ever, and as I’ve illustrated from day one with abk, want is an underrated intangible that drives extremely productive action.

I don’t mind going backwards or being stuck along the journey. Those are key parts of a real journey, I’ve learned. But if there is a way to get unstuck, and there usually is, I’ll find it.

It’s part of the abk DNA.

—

Have a great week.-Benj

Join the abk community!

Follow along on Instagram @anythingbutkhakis, @abkgolf, and @anythingbutkhakisphotography.

If you enjoy these and would like to get the weekly piece via email, please follow on the website http://www.anythingbutkhakis.com.

This past Monday and Tuesday, I played in my first ever Mississippi Chapter Championship. The tournament was 36 holes at a great course about 45 minutes from my house, and real talk here, I was not prepared.

I was exhausted, my confidence was low, and my body was sore, results of not enough practice/poor practice sessions over the past few weeks. As a golf professional who shoots in the mid 70s regularly when I’m fresh, I would have been thrilled to shoot 79-79 in this particular tournament. (Not ideal, but honest.)

That did not happen. I shot 86-82 with a 10 on one hole the first day, a really terrible detail if it didn’t come with such a great story.

—

As my group approached the 17th hole on Monday, I was +8 through 16 holes on no birdies, four bogies, and back to back double bogies on holes 8 and 9. After having made six straight pars and surviving one lightning delay, I figured if I parred the last two holes, I would shoot 80 on the number and not completely embarrass myself.

However, the 17th hole is a bitch from the back tee. There really is no other way to say it. Depending on the line that you pick, it’s a 225 to 275 yard carry over a river on a weird angle. Throw in a stiff breeze in my face that accompanied the impending second lightning delay, and let’s just say I picked the wrong line. Twice.

—

As I readied myself to hit my tee shot, I saw the tournament director driving backwards up the cart path, so I stepped away. It was obvious that he was about to blow the horn for our second weather delay, but he wasn’t quite ready. I could proceed.

So I stepped up to the ball a second time, only for five deer, startled by a clap of thunder, to come bouncing out of the woods. I backed away, smiled a little, then approached my tee shot for a third time.

As I started my backswing, one final deer pranced right over the back of my tee box. I chuckled aloud, stepped away one more time, and took a deep breath.

On my fourth approach, I actually, finally got to hit the ball. It did not clear the river. I re-teed my ball, steadied myself, then put another one in the river. And then the horn sounded.

—

I sat in the clubhouse for about an hour, knowing that I had to go back out, still on the tee box, and hit my 5th shot (including penalty strokes). It wasn’t the most pleasant hour of my life. An old friend of mine that works at the course kept me company, and by the end of the weather delay, I was laughing like nothing had happened.

When the skies cleared, I went back to the 17th tee, hit one so far away from any trouble that I had over 200 yards left into the hole. I hit a decent one to the fringe, then proceeded to take four more shots to get it in the hole.

When it rains, it pours.

—

That ten on hole 17 did not put me in last place, but it was close. I was disappointed for a minute, then somehow managed to enjoy the car ride home AND that entire evening with my family. I guess that’s all the work I’ve been doing. Not on golf. On myself.

Bad days happen, and there’s always another chance tomorrow. The following day I started on a par 5 and hit driver, 3 wood to ten feet. I narrowly missed the eagle, but tapped in for birdie. It was a beautiful day as a part of a beautiful journey.

Until three hours later when it started pouring again.

—

Have a great week.-Benj

Join the abk community!

Follow along on Instagram @anythingbutkhakis, @abkgolf, and @anythingbutkhakisphotography.

If you enjoy these and would like to get the weekly piece via email, please follow on the website http://www.anythingbutkhakis.com.

“Somehow, in the structure, there’s a lot of flexibility.”- Hildur Gudnadottir

Moving to a new locale. Starting a new career. Having another child. Pursuing a PhD in golf. Pursuing countless interests. Individually, these are all things that would require finding a new flow to life. How about doing all of them at once? It’s taken roughly four years of adapting and trial and error, but the rhythm of a year, though I’m sure it will morph again, has been found.

—

From Valentine’s Day to my birthday in mid May, I feel like an accountant during tax season. It’s madness. (I worked roughly twelve hours on my birthday.) It’s golf all the time. Our beautiful course has become insanely popular. I run a robust PGA Jr league in addition to my normal lessons. I practice and play as much as my energy levels allow. As a result, I’ve learned to schedule nothing else.

—

From my birthday to early August aka now, it’s jet ski season. It’s boating and fishing season. It’s island time. It’s hot. We live a lob wedge from The Gulf of Mexico.

It’s also summer vacation and championship golf time. Two of the biggest tournaments I play in are in June and July, respectively, and the heat combined with a slowdown at the golf course allow for me to really dial in my game. Chicago with the family and a work trip to the Dallas area highlight this year’s summer break.

—

From mid August to the holidays, it is the absolute best time of the year. Where do I even begin? Football, so many sports going on, sports betting at the casinos. Did I mention football? The autumn vibe, fall golf, another PGA Jr League. The fall is busy at the course, but not all day long busy. I live in SEC country. Fall mornings are for golf. After noon it’s all football.

And how about the 2nd Annual Opening College Football Weekend with my son? Last year’s Indy/Purdue/Notre Dame/Ann Arbor/Detroit trip was awesome but is likely to be outdone by this year in Los Angeles. Talk about starting your own traditions.

Last year, we had a late fall extended family trip to Paradise Pointe. The plan this year is New York City.

—

I enjoy the holidays, but then from the holidays to Valentine’s Day, it’s the NBA, Pelicans basketball, and nights in New Orleans. I was concerned when we left Charlotte that Hornets games with my son couldn’t be replaced. Boy, was I wrong.

—

Spring, summer, fall, winter. School year, summer break. The local community, flavor, and traditions.

All of these things guide life’s rhythm, but remember to make that rhythm your own.

Own your life story. Even if that means delaying your birthday celebration for ten days so that you don’t fall asleep in your food.

—

Have a great week.-Benj

Join the abk community!

Follow along on Instagram @anythingbutkhakis, @abkgolf, and @anythingbutkhakisphotography.

If you enjoy these and would like to get the weekly piece via email, please follow on the website http://www.anythingbutkhakis.com.