February 18th 2016
Today started with a round of golf with my Grandad and cousin. Golf is my favourite sport to play because it is the sport at which I am best. But it’s bloody frustrating.
I’m not usually a very emotive person, I’m not one to get angry quickly, or upset. I tend to be pretty chill. But when I play golf I get angry, at myself mainly, if things go badly. And it’s because I know I can do better.
If I hit a bad shot I know that I’m capable of hitting a better shot. If I miss a putt I’m angry because I know I’m good enough to have made the putt, and it’s so annoying. The way you get good at something is by being both capable and consistent, and consistency is what I lack.
I’ll hit two good shots and then two bad ones. I’ll sink every putt for three holes and then three putt every green from there on.
I also don’t think of myself as very competitive, but I always want to win when I play golf, because I think of it as ‘my sport’. Problem is that my Grandad has been playing golf for forty years, so I’ll not often beat him. And that competitiveness messes with my head, which messes with the consistency, which affects my capability. Which affects the scorecard.
If you’ve never played golf, I wouldn’t suggest taking it up. It’s not a game you can just enjoy, you’ll lose your head four times a round and find it somewhere after the next green. It’s not relaxing, or rewarding. No shot will ever be good enough, you’ll always want more. And it’s expensive. Every time you lose a ball you’re basically putting a £2 coin onto a tee and hitting it into a pond with your 7 iron.
For me, the only mark of a good round of golf is one where you’re putting on the 18th green with the same ball that you tee’d off on the first with.
Until tomorrow, I lost three balls today.