Over the past four years I’ve had the fortune to watch a good friend pick up the game of golf and grow immensely. He mocked the sport in discussions and then one day he called and said he wanted to give it a try. I’m not sure why, but I’m glad he made that decision and asked me to help.
Whether you are a golfer or not, it’s really not a good idea for a friend to teach you (ask any wife who has a husband try and teach her). I’m not qualified to help a newcomer figure out the perfect stance, grip or swing plane. But, since my buddy (we’ll call him J) reached out, I felt I’d give it my best shot to simplify the game as he started. I didn’t think he’d keep at it given his past skepticism.
From that first day – when I showed him how to grip the club and place his feet – the art of teaching him (and his receptivity to learning) has been an ongoing joy in my life. He swung and missed multiple times that first day, like most golfers, and in the weeks that ensued as we headed from the practice range to the course. He also hit the ball solidly a few times, yanked a few to the left, shanked a few to the right, and rolled a few down the hill of the driving range, while tunneling huge divots that sent turf flying.
He was immediately hooked. I was surprised, but kept working with him, discussing that putts on the green were simply about speed and direction. Get those two things right, and you can turn into a good putter.
Very early on we both learned that when he connected, his swing (patterned from his baseball-playing days) and strength could help him launch bombs. Within those first few rounds, he outdrove me despite me hitting one of my better tee shots of the day. I applauded, beaming at what he could do.
There are many nuances to golf. Terminology must be learned. You have to understand how uphill, sidehill and downhill lies affect your ball trajectory. Hitting out of sand or rough is quite different from a pristine lie on the fairway. Depending on the distance of your next shot and the wind direction, condition of the course, and even the time of year when you are playing all affect club selection, how far the ball will fly and roll, and how you want to hit the ball. He bought into all this, slowly developing an affinity for recognizing and adjusting to the various shots.
As one year turned into year two, three and four, he grew his game. He laughed, he enjoyed new courses. He brought new friends to the sport. And, finally, one day he cursed. That showed me he had made it. He’d gotten good enough where he had expectations, and knew he could do better, and a bad shot frustrated him. That day was amusing as I watched and listened, and I told him later how he’d crossed a threshold.
The joy of playing, being outdoors, enjoying time with your friends was still paramount, but he’d reached that next level. He adopted golf slang. After a point, he spoke golf slang fluently. That, too, was a special moment as he talked the language. We were on the same page.
J does not watch golf on TV. It bores him. I get it, but continue to encourage him to watch because he can learn by watching. He likes the continual challenge of playing, improving his swing and lowering his score. I watch his score improve on an annual basis, celebrating his birdies, breaking 100 on a round, or crushing a drive that rises majestically on the last hole of the day.
Despite his embracement of all things golf, J still has the ability to make me smile at some of the more subtle things he’s still picking up. Just recently, he texted me, “What’s a shotgun start?” For those of you who are golfers, that’s a quick and easy answer. For the uninitiated, it means playing where every group tees off at the same time, but on a different hole, so everyone finishes at approximately the same time. This is done for fundraising events, and typically you play in team scrambles. I explained this to him, and was not sure he understood the full concept.
Something about him not knowing what a shotgun start reminded me that he’s still fresh at the sport, still learning, still loving it, eagerly picking up the nuances. There’s a lot to be said for that. It would be nice to keep that perspective in all our endeavors.
Whether you are a golfer or not, it’s really not a good idea for a friend to teach you (ask any wife who has a husband try and teach her). I’m not qualified to help a newcomer figure out the perfect stance, grip or swing plane. But, since my buddy (we’ll call him J) reached out, I felt I’d give it my best shot to simplify the game as he started. I didn’t think he’d keep at it given his past skepticism.
From that first day – when I showed him how to grip the club and place his feet – the art of teaching him (and his receptivity to learning) has been an ongoing joy in my life. He swung and missed multiple times that first day, like most golfers, and in the weeks that ensued as we headed from the practice range to the course. He also hit the ball solidly a few times, yanked a few to the left, shanked a few to the right, and rolled a few down the hill of the driving range, while tunneling huge divots that sent turf flying.
He was immediately hooked. I was surprised, but kept working with him, discussing that putts on the green were simply about speed and direction. Get those two things right, and you can turn into a good putter.
Very early on we both learned that when he connected, his swing (patterned from his baseball-playing days) and strength could help him launch bombs. Within those first few rounds, he outdrove me despite me hitting one of my better tee shots of the day. I applauded, beaming at what he could do.
There are many nuances to golf. Terminology must be learned. You have to understand how uphill, sidehill and downhill lies affect your ball trajectory. Hitting out of sand or rough is quite different from a pristine lie on the fairway. Depending on the distance of your next shot and the wind direction, condition of the course, and even the time of year when you are playing all affect club selection, how far the ball will fly and roll, and how you want to hit the ball. He bought into all this, slowly developing an affinity for recognizing and adjusting to the various shots.
As one year turned into year two, three and four, he grew his game. He laughed, he enjoyed new courses. He brought new friends to the sport. And, finally, one day he cursed. That showed me he had made it. He’d gotten good enough where he had expectations, and knew he could do better, and a bad shot frustrated him. That day was amusing as I watched and listened, and I told him later how he’d crossed a threshold.
The joy of playing, being outdoors, enjoying time with your friends was still paramount, but he’d reached that next level. He adopted golf slang. After a point, he spoke golf slang fluently. That, too, was a special moment as he talked the language. We were on the same page.
J does not watch golf on TV. It bores him. I get it, but continue to encourage him to watch because he can learn by watching. He likes the continual challenge of playing, improving his swing and lowering his score. I watch his score improve on an annual basis, celebrating his birdies, breaking 100 on a round, or crushing a drive that rises majestically on the last hole of the day.
Despite his embracement of all things golf, J still has the ability to make me smile at some of the more subtle things he’s still picking up. Just recently, he texted me, “What’s a shotgun start?” For those of you who are golfers, that’s a quick and easy answer. For the uninitiated, it means playing where every group tees off at the same time, but on a different hole, so everyone finishes at approximately the same time. This is done for fundraising events, and typically you play in team scrambles. I explained this to him, and was not sure he understood the full concept.
Something about him not knowing what a shotgun start reminded me that he’s still fresh at the sport, still learning, still loving it, eagerly picking up the nuances. There’s a lot to be said for that. It would be nice to keep that perspective in all our endeavors.