​There are many ways to become an expert. One that makes the most sense is through the repetition of activities grooming your talents. You do something often enough and you get better.
 
This thought occurred to me recently as I pulled burrs off my pants. Sounds weird, right? Yet, as I sat on a chair in front of our house cursing and plucking after plodding through our woods eliminating invasive species, I contemplated how good I’d gotten at yanking the dastardly distance-traveling burrs that seek to send their seed across the planet, catching a ride on animals’ fur and human clothing.
 
Pull, flick. Pull, flick. Grab your pants tautly, pinch the tiny bastards tightly between thumb and your lead finger. Do this repeatedly 343 times until the cramps crush your fingers and wrists. You are closing in on becoming an expert burr remover.
 
Becoming an expert burr remover requires ongoing learning. You determine the importance of shifting hands. As your left fingers and wrist tire, you come to recognize the importance of rotating to your right hand. Keep the pace. Rotate back when the right hand tires. And, so on.
 
There are multiple ways to pull burrs. Some are successful, some not.
 
When I first took on this mission (not willingly), I went in blind. Didn’t know a thing. Would just look at the tracks of stickers across the clothes on my butt, arms, ankles, calves, sigh and think, “I’ll NEVER get all these off.” And, it seemed to take forever.
 
It seemed like every time you pull a string of 7-8 together and you feel good about yourself for making progress that another set would appear on your thigh or some weird place on your body that you couldn’t imagine would become a resting place for traveling burrs.
 
This became dispiriting. When you’re overwhelmed to start with, then find even more challenges, it gets depressing. Slowly you determine your tactics and strategy.
 
Jump right in. Don’t wait when you return from the woods and see oddly-patterned burr patches all over your clothes. Just get to work. Start fast. Make a dent in the project.
 
Then, give yourself some time to sit back after 10 minutes or so. Assess your progress. “OMG, 232 of the burrs are gone!”
 
There’s only about a third of the initial mess still left to clean up. You feel better about yourself. You get a sense that you can make the finish line.
 
Here’s the thing though: as you learn to clip the burrs, why do I keep getting more burrs on my pants and sweatshirts? Why aren’t I learning on that front and not walking repeatedly and inadvertently into those bushes?
 
I don’t know the answer to that one since I continue to come out of the woods covered and cursing. I wear crappy pants so I don’t destroy them when the crumbly remains of the burrs grind into the fabric. Tight pants somewhat prevent the burrs from adhering. I’m learning.
 
When you learn, you become an expert. Repeat the actions, figure out what works and what doesn’t. Keep after it. Someday, you too can become an expert in burr removal. I don’t recommend it, but it can be done.

​Scrambling applies to life and golf. It’s a different way to approach problem-solving when you think about it.
 
Quarterbacks scramble in football when a play breaks down and they improvise. When you scramble to meet a deadline, you’re looking for resources, people and ideas to get a project done under a deadline. When you find you’re missing ingredients for a recipe you’re cooking, you scramble to come up with some other spice or substitute that will enhance the dish. In golf, you scramble with partners to improve the final outcome.
 
Golf scrambling is more than that though. And, it speaks to ways you can improve an outcome through strategy, sharing, applying specific talents of each individual.
 
Typically in golf, it’s you against the course. It’s individualism at its finest. You screw up or play great. It’s on your shoulders. You can make excuses due to bad luck, a terrible lie or ending up behind a tree, but how you hit the ball and whether you put it in the hole depends entirely on you. No excuses.
 
I’ve moved away from playing individual golf, and embraced scrambling over the past 6-8 years. One reason is the reduction of frustration. You play golf to enjoy the outdoors, hang out with friends, breathing fresh air, appreciating the weather and scenery. When you play your individual ball, and every shot depends on your talent, you shoulder all the pressure. There’s no letting up.
 
That can certainly drive you and increase concentration. And, at times it gets you to play at the top of your game, which you can relish when your shots come together. More frequently, that doesn’t happen, and you beat yourself up for not hitting the ball the way you thought you were capable of.
 
When you choose to scramble on the golf course instead, you share the game. You have others to rely on. Your talent and shots matter. But, one of your partners may hit a better shot, allowing you to use that instead, which improves your score (and your attitude because you’re better off as a team when you take the individual’s best shot).
 
It’s team vs. the individual, and life really is more a team sport. We have situations every day that require interaction, engagement, listening, coming together to make decisions that are in the best interests of a business, family or relationships. You can’t make those in a vacuum. Any final decision must balance perspectives, hopefully leading to the best possible outcome. Applying additional minds to problem-solve will typically yield an improved result (one hopes).
 
You really can’t take on the world yourself. We all need help at times, whether that’s emotional, physical or psychological. Golf scrambling embraces that concept from a talent perspective and in terms of decision-making as you consider how to approach each shot on the hole.
 
As I’ve introduced scrambling to the people I play golf with, there was often trepidation on their part the first few times we adopted it. Used to playing their individual ball, they typically saw that as the “only” way to play the game.
 
That’s not the case though. Actually, scrambling brings people back into the game of golf. People turned off by the intensity and pressure of playing your own ball find they enjoy the sport much more as a team game as you share the burdens, relax when you hit a bad one, and cheer for your teammates. There’s a lot to be said for that. There’s a lesson in there somewhere for our work, personal and professional lives.