The Feeling of a Golf Breakthrough

by Wallace
(Pennsylvania, USA)

Like many recreational golfers who love the game, as a young person I was busy making a living and a life, and was not introduced to golf until near middle age.

Oh, if I only knew then what I know now, I would have forgone the after round drinks and expended the treasury for lessons from a teaching professional.

However, since I considered myself a better than fair athlete, and have a history of being late smart, I drifted into the category of being self-taught.

As a consequence of lack of thought and too many years practicing bad habits, my improvement over the years has been “spotty”.

To remedy my tendency to swing over-the-top, cast the club at the ball, and play weak slice golf, I worked out a tight mechanical, multi-part swing that in actuality was less of a swing and more a series of lunges and lurches.

Nevertheless, this delivered an improved result... the yank. Now my yank was pretty good as they go, and I was much longer from the tee but it was a sight to behold.

To keep the ball in play with my newly developed techniques I had to align my body near thirty degrees right of the target.

Unfortunately, the short iron play was less predictable, and a highly active left shoulder was proven to either be the key to my power, or the key to dig a deep furrow six inches in front of the ball.

Having that background the reader will have no difficulty visualizing my game as unpredictable, and with proper alignment of the stars I could play a round in the mid to high 90’s. If I worked ever harder, of course I could break 100.

$%*t!

Then there was this one mid-September day in Eastern Pennsylvania… I was enrolled with several buddies at a charity tourney.

As we were warming on the driving range, a wind began to move in a cold front. The wind was rather fierce and the temperature dropped far too low for our slacks and summer polo shirts.

Fortunately, the rear of my auto was stocked with sweaters and jackets aplenty and I supplied our quadsome with adequate gear to protect from hypothermia. As the wind roared and we gave up keeping our bonnets on top, the scores soared as well... except mine.

Now to this day I do not understand how or why I moved into “the zone”. The club was weightless. My twenty three part series of lunging and lurching became a three part golf swing.

Back (don’t let the wind blow you over), forward, and then through the ball. A much more enjoyable sequence and the ball was jumping off the club face to playable regions of the terrain.

One of my mates plays to a low single handicap and knows my game. He did not overdo the comments, simply saying, “relax and keep doing whatever you are doing”.

So until that day, I had never before broken 90. As we made to hole eighteen, I knew I was headed for a personal best but felt no anxiety.

My mind ignored many years of hitting to the right side off the tee, and as I came through the ball my forearms flexed in perfect timing to shape a long, low draw down the fairway.

The driven ball passed the last obstacle on the left side which was an ancient white oak tree. The old tree had never been passed by a better drive for this hole.

Past the tree, the ball continued to hug the left side of the fairway to catch a down slope and roll within 30 yards of the green. A confident chip and short putt later I birdied the hole to finish with a score of 82.

I still do not know what prepared my mind for that round, but think about it often and seek to get back “into that place” as warm a mother’s arms to an infant.

The score was not so important because it was a freak… but the feeling and the enjoyment of that round stay with me and I suppose as long as I breathe I will seek to find it again.