MENTAL SPOTLIGHT

The Case for Serious Golf

What ever happened to the serious golfer—the one who used to tee the ball and not touch it again until it was in the hole? The one who actually used to putt 18 times every round? The one who played a simple game of golf, where winning was based one who shot the lowest score for 18 holes, not on who had the most greenies, sandies, chippers, poleys or bingo-bango-bongos?

            Back in the ‘50s and early “60s, people played a serious game of golf. I don’t necessarily mean expert golf, just serious. Many people shot in the 80s or 90s, but they played serious golf.

            By that I mean a pure and simple game played by a standard set of rules. They completed all the holes, counted all their shots, recorded all their scores and generated accurate and reasonable handicaps. When I was junior golfer in the “50s and “60s I played serious golf, and I assumed that as I grew older I would continue to be able to play serious golf. But here it two decades later, and I look around and there’s nobody to play with.

             I realize I overstating it. I occasionally run into other serious golfers, and I jump at the chance to play with them. But in general, golfers nowadays are making a mockery of the game.

            For example, many golfers today are afraid to keep their score. “Let’s play match play.” “Give me an “X” on that hole.” “I’ll drop a ball here instead of going back to the tee.” “Anything inside the length of the flagpole is a gimme. ”Why do you think scores soar in the club championship” Because finally you’re seeing something that resembles an accurate score.

            This, of course, assumes that you can get someone to play in the club championship. Many golfers won’t play competitively unless they can disguise their score in a best-ball event or a captain’s-choice scramble, where some ridiculously low team score goes on the board and saves the golfer form revealing how he really played.

            Golf, in the more serious sense, was meant to be a game where the individual puts himself on the line and stands or falls based on his own talent or lack thereof? So why are these so few serious golfers left in the world? It may be because expectations have become unrealistic. People think they should play better than they do. And they’re embarrassed when they shoot what should really be considered a very respectable score.

            And why they think they should play better than they do? Probably their main frame of reference is what they see on television—the best golfers in the world, all warmed up, playing the final holes of a round at a time when, as they’ve already proved by making the cut, they’re on their game. This level of play isn’t representative of even the typical touring professional

            If only we could see some of the stars when they are missing cuts, struggling on the early holes of a round, blowing three-foot putts—then, maybe, modern golfers would develop more realistic expectations for their own play.

            Beyond this, the amateur golfer needs more opportunities to compete seriously. Having one’s score would then be less of a shock, and seeing what everyone else was really shooting would provide a realistic frame of reference.

            Opportunities to compete might include old-fashioned president’s and governor’s cup tournaments, along with the tradition club championship. The latter event, in fact, might be elevated to a position of special honor, as it used to be. I sometimes fantasize that every golfer at a golf club should be required, as a stipulation of his membership, to play in the club championship. The true championship would then be given the recognition that such an accomplishment deserves.

            Clubs could also hold less formal monthly tournaments—just for the sake of competing, rather than for costly prizes. Or a challenge ladder might be set up, giving golfers a way to seek out whatever level of competition they want.

            There are, of course, those who will say, “Hey, I just want to have fun, socialize, drink a few beers. What’s all this seriousness stuff about? Are you trying to take all the fun out of golf?”

            I refer this person to a statement by the late Adolph Rupp, the famed basketball coach at the University of Kentucky, who was frequency criticized for being too hard on his players. His rejoinder was; “My boy, get their fun out of winning national championships.

            And get my fun out of playing serious golf. If I want to have a social gathering with food and drink, I have a party. If I want to get some exercise, test my developing skills, compete and win, I play golf. Naturally I accept other folk’s desires to have a social event—to ride around in golf cart, drink beer and call it an afternoon of golf. That’s fun for them. But as for me, I like to work at the game, feel the turf under my feel, compete individually, and win or lose based on my ability.

            Golf is a grand old game. It rests on its own merits. It’s doesn’t need gimmicks to jazz it up. It has its rules, it has its standard, it has its standard, it has its traditions. And there’s no tradition greater then using your own talent and posting your own score, for better or for worse.

            After all, the bottom line for success in golf is the score—your individual score on a given day, not your team’s best, scrambled, handicapped score from a randomly chosen nine holes drawn from rounds played over the past three months.

This article is from the book “The Complete Golfer: Physical Skill and Mental Toughness” by Dr. Tom Dorsel, the sport psychologist.