It’s amazing what a smiling face can do for others. Ludvig Aberg demonstrated this over the weekend in the Masters golf tournament.
One of my pet peeves with pro golfers is how standardized and stoic they are. Like a molding press has created them with a certain look, similar clothes and a way of carrying themselves on the course. One of the things they don’t seem to do much is smile or show emotion.
Years ago, pro golf was loaded with personalities that stood out. From Arnold Palmer to Jack Nicklaus, Lee Trevino, Chi Chi Rodriguez and many others, if you were a fan, you could find someone to attach yourself to. The current crop of professional golfers lacks this luster.
The game suffers for it. Fans like myself have a hard time identifying and rooting for someone who doesn’t appear human. When a player keeps the same expression on his face for most of a tournament, you start to wonder if it’s an android playing and not a human.
It’s why this past weekend was refreshing to see Ludvig’s smiling face cropping up on the leaderboard as the Masters played out. He joked with his caddy. He spontaneously broke into smiles hole after hole. He interacted with the fans. He showed us who he is.
I think there’s a deeper issue with the sport/business of golf, and it derives from the drive to be the best and seek perfection. Perfection is unattainable and the title of “best” only goes to one person for each tournament out of 150 or so players who enter to compete. Which means 149 disappointed individuals each week.
That mantle of “being number one” or only feeling like you succeeded if you win the tournament is hugely destructive. It’s a very American thing. It creates pressure. It destroys you if you don’t meet that standard.
Interestingly enough, if you look at measures of happiness, Scandinavian countries like Ludvig’s Sweden rank the highest in the world for “happiness,” while the United States ranks 23rd. When you constantly push to reach or be at the top of the heap, it’s hard to relax and enjoy yourself. That’s a very U.S. mentality.
This comes across when the golf announcers criticize the players WHO ARE THE BEST IN THE WORLD, when you hear them say things like, “That wasn’t his best effort” when someone like Rory McIlroy hits a snaking 49-foot putt that razors the edge of the cup and nestles two-and-a-half feet past the hole. “Yes, Mr. Announcer, it was an extraordinary phenomenal putt, but the ball just didn’t happen to go in the hole.” Give the player some credit for his talent.
In that environment, it can be hard to smile. I get that. I also think smiling is a good thing and relaxes you, and makes you feel good. If the pros would do that more often, perhaps they’d play better.
There’s an entire industry surrounding ways to “get yourself to the top,” find your inner talent, become number one in some field or industry. We are sold that bill of goods repeatedly, and I would argue there are a large number of disenchanted people because of it.
If I were a pro golfer, I’d feel great finishing 10th in a tournament. At the Texas Valero Open last week, 10th place took home $223,000, and that is not a high paying tournament. That should make you feel good. And, make you smile.
Ludvig Aberg just finished second in the Masters. He smiles not because of the money, but because that’s who he is, comfortable in his skin and doing something he wants to be doing. It shows on the TV screen. Hopefully he influences many other golfers in the coming years. He’s gained me as a fan.
It’s amazing what a smiling face can do for others. Ludvig Aberg demonstrated this over the weekend in the Masters golf tournament.
One of my pet peeves with pro golfers is how standardized and stoic they are. Like a molding press has created them with a certain look, similar clothes and a way of carrying themselves on the course. One of the things they don’t seem to do much is smile or show emotion.
Years ago, pro golf was loaded with personalities that stood out. From Arnold Palmer to Jack Nicklaus, Lee Trevino, Chi Chi Rodriguez and many others, if you were a fan, you could find someone to attach yourself to. The current crop of professional golfers lacks this luster.
The game suffers for it. Fans like myself have a hard time identifying and rooting for someone who doesn’t appear human. When a player keeps the same expression on his face for most of a tournament, you start to wonder if it’s an android playing and not a human.
It’s why this past weekend was refreshing to see Ludvig’s smiling face cropping up on the leaderboard as the Masters played out. He joked with his caddy. He spontaneously broke into smiles hole after hole. He interacted with the fans. He showed us who he is.
I think there’s a deeper issue with the sport/business of golf, and it derives from the drive to be the best and seek perfection. Perfection is unattainable and the title of “best” only goes to one person for each tournament out of 150 or so players who enter to compete. Which means 149 disappointed individuals each week.
That mantle of “being number one” or only feeling like you succeeded if you win the tournament is hugely destructive. It’s a very American thing. It creates pressure. It destroys you if you don’t meet that standard.
Interestingly enough, if you look at measures of happiness, Scandinavian countries like Ludvig’s Sweden rank the highest in the world for “happiness,” while the United States ranks 23rd. When you constantly push to reach or be at the top of the heap, it’s hard to relax and enjoy yourself. That’s a very U.S. mentality.
This comes across when the golf announcers criticize the players WHO ARE THE BEST IN THE WORLD, when you hear them say things like, “That wasn’t his best effort” when someone like Rory McIlroy hits a snaking 49-foot putt that razors the edge of the cup and nestles two-and-a-half feet past the hole. “Yes, Mr. Announcer, it was an extraordinary phenomenal putt, but the ball just didn’t happen to go in the hole.” Give the player some credit for his talent.
In that environment, it can be hard to smile. I get that. I also think smiling is a good thing and relaxes you, and makes you feel good. If the pros would do that more often, perhaps they’d play better.
There’s an entire industry surrounding ways to “get yourself to the top,” find your inner talent, become number one in some field or industry. We are sold that bill of goods repeatedly, and I would argue there are a large number of disenchanted people because of it.
If I were a pro golfer, I’d feel great finishing 10th in a tournament. At the Texas Valero Open last week, 10th place took home $223,000, and that is not a high paying tournament. That should make you feel good. And, make you smile.
Ludvig Aberg just finished second in the Masters. He smiles not because of the money, but because that’s who he is, comfortable in his skin and doing something he wants to be doing. It shows on the TV screen. Hopefully he influences many other golfers in the coming years. He’s gained me as a fan.