One of my favourite comedians is Dave Hemstad, a former golf professional. I love his bit about having a shower, but the only shampoo in the stall is dog shampoo. It can’t hurt, he figures.
As he towels off, he looks through the window and sees a squirrel.
“No, no, no, no, no,” he yells.
OK, it’s funnier when Hemstad tells it.
But it reminds me of golfers. Most golfers chase after fixes and cures like a dog chases a squirrel. They’re chronically seeking, trying, and hoping, but they find themselves perpetually disappointed. (My Freddie has never caught a thing.)
Ask any golfer about their game, and you’re almost guaranteed to hear about the latest thing they’re “working” on. But if that thing stops “working,” they’re on to the next thing, whether it’s an old swing thought or a tip from YouTube or a buddy.
I get it: You’re hitting it sideways. You want it to stop. You want to fix it. Now! But when the new thing doesn’t work—or keep working—we’re disappointed, again.
There’s only one way to change your patterns—through purposeful, deliberate practice. This applies to your golf swing, your on-course strategy, and your mental approach. (This is a core premise of my upcoming book, Getting Unstuck: Seven Transformational Practices for Gold Nerds. We’re aiming for a September release.)
Part of the problem is the limitless supply of digital tips and fixes in your pocket. It’s just so easy to access this stuff that promises to fix your flaws. It’s also in the interest of the golf instruction industry to keep you feeling insecure, convinced you’re doing it wrong, and believing that new and better information spells salvation.
But you don’t need fixing. You may believe that you can’t hit planet earth right now or ever make a putt, but you have the capacity to hit solid golf shots—if you stay committed to a chosen path. That path, for example, could include working with a coach, focusing on one aspect of your swing, or determining an intention for every round of golf.
Whatever that thing is, it’s specific and you’re in for the long haul. You’re going to “stay with it.”
That phrase came up a few times in my last blog which focused on my experience assembling a game with a million parts—OK, about 60—for a game at our church picnic. (Yes, my church picnic.)
It was also a major part of my discussion with Humble Howard on our latest Swing Thoughts podcast.
I believe strongly that “staying with it” is vital to playing great golf, being an effective colleague at work, and being reliable in our personal relationships. (I focus on these topics in my Commit to Freedom workshops for organizations.)
While writing about assembling the game, I thought about M. Scott Peck’s popular book, The Road Less Traveled, published in 1978. The book begins with the statement, "Life is difficult.” (Well, “duh,” golfers say.)
He goes on to say life is a series of problems. Many people ignore them. Others choose to solve them; these folks live meaningful lives, Peck argues. How do they solve them? Peck answers with a very unfashionable word: discipline.
He describes how at age 37, he transformed from a “mechanical idiot” to someone modestly handy. It began with meeting a neighbour who was repairing his lawn mower. Peck told the man he couldn’t fix things like that.
The fellow said, “That’s because you don’t take the time.”
Peck relates that shortly after that experience, a client’s parking brake jammed. The client said something could be tweaked under the dashboard to release it. Peck got under and looked at the jumble of wires. “Gradually, in no hurry, I was able to focus my sights on the brake apparatus and trace its course.”
Eventually, he saw a latch, pressed it, and the brake released. Peck said he learned that he wasn’t “cursed or genetically defective.”
His main message was that “many people simply do not take the time necessary to solve many of life’s intellectual, social or spiritual problems.” In other words, we don’t stay with it.
I believe that it’s the same with resolving problems in your golf game.
When we “stay with” a path, intention or task, we can access our innate brilliance—our inner wisdom that eventually makes the slice into a gentle fade or starts the process that allows someone to access their skill in competition or close a tournament.
Chasing the shiny new thing is tempting, but not very satisfying. And you can end up looking pretty funny.
If you’re interested in golf coaching—including on the mental part of your game—please send an email to tim@oconnorgolf.ca. I invite you to check out www.oconnorgolf.ca and to listen to our Swing Thoughts podcast.
I will share a story about Lewis Hamilton the Formula 1 driving great. During practise he pushes all the buttons on his steering wheel, tries different settings and different racing lines looking for an edge in the race. I urge you to consider truly taking the path less travelled by pushing some different buttons.
My path is to tinker. It makes boring practice more fun. It is the path to discovery. It brings me joy. I am not trying to become a professional, I am just trying to delight myself with the occasional great shot. I agree practice, hard work and some natural ability make perfect but if perfect is not the goal and let’s face it is rarely should be then I say tinker, try new things and have fun.