Several weeks ago, I played golf with a friend. He would probably say he is not very good.
While there is some merit to his perspective, some of his “not being very good” comes from not being able to see his own swing. Playing sports, we don’t step back and watch ourselves. We just do it. The same holds true in much of life. We slog away.
As we played, I offered some small tips along the way. For those non-golfers reading this, it’s amusing for anyone to ever offer anyone else advice on the golf course because 99% of us are not experts and have no idea what we are doing. But we think we can still help others.
So when I suggest anything, it’s all about keeping it simple and getting the person I’m advising to focus on one thing, like the wind being in our face, so take a club you can hit farther, for example. Or, I might say, “See that tree? Aim it there.”
These are the types of suggestions that golfers at any level can process. It’s one basic thought, and they can focus on that.
My partner that day, who we’ll call Hank just for fun, was a magnificent student. He listened, he applied, he improved.
Hank got harassed in our foursome because he was expected to be the worst player in our group (by far) but kept winning holes for us by hitting great shots. He did what he was capable of, and didn’t try to do more than that. There’s a lesson in that as well.
Finishing the front nine, Hank came in with a 48, far below his usual score. He enjoyed the round, and I was having fun caddying him.
Several months ago, I took on the task of coaching another good friend on the golf course. Before teeing off on the first hole, I said, “I’m going to caddy you today.” He was amenable.
His score typically ranges from 94-102, depending on the difficulty of the course. That day, he shot an 88. Maybe his caddy saved him six strokes, maybe not.
What I would argue is that he focused more that day on each shot. He stayed in the moment. He paid attention to one key thought on his swing, and executed it to the best of his ability.
Put all that together, and you have an improved round. Would he have shot the same score without a caddy? Quite possibly. We’ll never be able to fully answer that.
But we can argue that taking simple advice well, and implementing small changes cause things to improve on the golf course. This is also applicable to life.
We can all use a life caddy. But, you must listen and take the suggested steps or it’s pointless. You’ll make the same mistakes over and over.
That’s what happens repeatedly to golfers. They mess up a hole or several shots in a row and don’t know how to adapt or don’t even want to try. Success is about executing and implementing a change.
Hank didn’t play as well on the back nine, carding a 61, which was almost a stroke-and-a-half worse per hole. The advice provided to him slowed to a trickle compared to the front nine.
He might have been tired or lost focus. Or it could be that he needed his caddy to help guide him through.