My face went hot. It was like I was stunned, paralyzed. I realized that this was a moment. I eked out, “Ouch. Thank you … I think.” I muttered something about having to go somewhere. I fled.
I’m embarrassed to admit it, but I lived and died—mostly died—with the quality of my golf. I sulked and dragged my carcass around the course like I was headed to the gallows.
After a 2014 accident, the firefighter was told golf was out of the question – he’d be lucky to walk again without something to lean on.
Golf professionals are chronically frustrated that many players play the wrong tees for their age and ability, depriving themselves of fun and slowing the pace of play.
“I’m definitely more intense than the average bear,” said Howard, who freely shares his experiences both good and cringe-worthy on the podcast. “It’s helped me in my professional career and in golf, but it’s not for everyone.
Bruce Lietzke told me his dedication to his family was his ‘why’ for playing golf. He found meaning and purpose in his family that put golf clearly in its place.
The reason that the majority of golfers don’t improve is they don’t feel what they are actually doing. Therefore, they don’t know what they’re doing either.
As a young man, I didn’t have the perspective that while my father certainly hoped I’d play well, for him it was mainly about sharing time and the game he loved with me. Talk about if-I-knew-then-what-I-know-now perspective.
George Knudson, the late legendary Canadian golfer, often said: “Give up control to gain control.”
