The Fuck Moment
“There was only one time that you showed you were frustrated,” Ronnie said. “I believe you yelled ‘Fuck!’ or something like that.”
It was probably “Fuck.”
Ronnie, my brother-in-law, was caddying for me in the qualifying tournament for the New Jersey State Fourball Championship. The Fourball Championship gathers some of the best amateur golfers in the state. It is the most important round of golf I’ll play all year.
My partner and I weren’t hitting the ball very well. I was inconsistent off the tee, never quite knowing where my ball was going to end up; and I was hooking many of my irons. My partner had his own problems. Still, we were playing well enough on and around the greens to put up decent scores.
In general, I don’t let my emotions run too low or too high. On the golf course, I make a point of not being elated after good shots or letting the bad shots upset me. I find that the best way to play golf is with a certain amount of apathy and detachment.
Which brings me to “The Fuck Moment.”
We were halfway through our back nine when I hooked a ball under a tree (see “A” below).
While I had a swing, Tree B was between me and the green (see D). So I had to aim at Tree C and try to intentionally hook the ball on or near the green.
I had an about 1-in-10 chance of pulling this off. Long odds, but I gave it a try.
The ball was still in the air when I yelled, “Fuck!” My ball headed straight for Tree C and came to rest underneath it. Dead. Well. Fuck.
I didn’t get mad because I missed the shot. Golf, especially at my level, is a game of who can play their miss-hits best. Ben Hogan, one of the best ball strikers ever, said that he only hit about seven perfect shots in a round. What chance do I have?
No. I readily accept my miss-hits. However, I have a strong logical mind. And the moment the ball left the club and didn’t turn, I woke up and realized that I didn’t use my mind very well. Fuck.
Here’s what my mind told me:
- “You’re dead. Punch the ball into the middle of the fairway inside 100 yards, probably inside 50 yards. And take your chances getting up-and-down for par. Your chances at that point are probably 50/50.” (Smart mind. Right play.);
- “You only have a 1-in-10 shot of hooking the ball onto the green, maybe even less than 1-in-10. The Rule of Thumb is to only play shots that you know you can pull off 9-in-10 times. Punch the ball into the middle of the fairway. (Smart mind. Right play.);
- “Don’t let your last thought be even vaguely negative or positive at a negative target. When setting up at the tree (C above), don’t let that be your last thought or your target. Your body is dumb, you’ll say, “Aim at the tree and hook it” but your body will only hear “Aim at the tree.” You know it happens all the time. (Smart mind.)
As I said, the ball went right at Tree C. Never curved. The body did what it was told. I never listened to my mind.
Fuck.
FUCK!
:::
Turns out we missed the cut by one stroke. Just like last year. That shot was one of the turning points. If I make the smart play, we have a chance to go on. The round has a half-dozen pivotal moments like that. Sometimes I made the right decisions; sometimes I didn’t.
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