That's not to be mean, it's just to state facts. The sooner you accept it, the more you'll be able to enjoy yourself on the golf course.
The topic is always relevant, but particularly so now, after Larry David recently wrote a story for The New Yorker. If you've ever watched Curb Your Enthusiasm, you know that Larry David is hilarious. You also know that he loves playing golf. You also know that he's got a bit of a hot temper (he once was responsible for another man's heart attack and the violent clubbing of an innocent swan on consecutive days on the course).
But in real life, he's mellowed out, and it's all because he's reached the acceptance stage.
"Finally, after years of pain and struggle, I had accepted the fact that I would never be a good golfer. No matter how many hours I practiced, no matter how many instructors I saw, how many books and magazines I read, or how many teaching aids I tried," he wrote. "Then it hit me. According to Dr. Elisabeth Kubler-Ross' book On Death and Dying, Acceptance was the final stage of grief that terminal patients experience before dying, the others being Anger, Denial, Bargaining, and Depression. I was in the final stage! When I started thinking about it, I realized that I'd gone through every one of those stages, but not as a terminal patient … as a golfer."
Most recreational golfers can relate, though frankly, too many get stuck in the anger and denial stages to ever realize it.
The problem is this: People sit at home on Sundays and watch the pros. They see that the pros all have a set of golf clubs, a nice collared shirt and a fresh pair of slacks. They see that the pros are, generally, men with average to below-average physiques. Outside of Hulk Tiger Woods that emerged a couple of years ago, they all pretty much look like normal guys. So Regular Joe sits on his couch, beer in hand, watching Hunter Mahan stick a 165-yard shot about 8 feet from the pin, and for some reason begins to believe, "Hey, I can do that."
It's truly bizarre. That same man doesn't sit on the couch watching professional baseball players and say, "You know, I think I could send a 94-mph heater into the gap." He doesn't watch Wes Welker run a quick slant, catch a bullet from Tom Brady and get clocked by a 225-pound linebacker and then say, "Y'know, that looks doable." He doesn't watch an NHL fourth-liner stand tall in front of a 100-mph slap shot and think, "Well, if he can do it, I can certainly do it."
With golf, though, it always seems to be different. People joke about their horrible slices … then proceed to go into a profanity-filled tirade after sending their tee shot into another fairway. They'll duff their approach shot, or send it 30 yards left into a bunker, and then start blaming their clubs. They'll kick their bags, yell at their wives or just emit a general air of anger, all while apparently forgetting the fact that they only paid $21 to play at their municipal course and the guy in the foursome on the next hole is wearing mesh shorts and his finest T-shirt.
It's one thing when it's Tiger Woods, in his prime, slamming his club to the ground and swearing at himself. When you're the best in the world, you try to live up to some high standards. But when Harry Nobody takes a swig of what he calls "swing lubricator" (a can of light beer, if you're new to golf) and gets heated when his approach shot rolls off the back of the green, you've got a problem.
Too often, people get out on the course looking to shoot 7-under par, which is just ridiculous. Remember: You're terrible. The sooner you can head to the course and enjoy the fact that your life allows you a five-hour window to do nothing but spend the day walking outside with friends and playing a silly game with funny clothing and odd etiquette, the more you'll get out of the game of golf.
"I will never be good," David wrote. "There, I said it. I like saying it. I'll say it again: I'll never be good. It's just not something I'm suited for. That's O.K."
Try saying that to yourself before you tee off next time. You might just have the best round of your life.
