Admitting Defeat Takes A Good Handshake

It's been a week since my San Francisco 49ers lost a heartbreaking NFC championship to the New York Giants. After the game, unbeknownst to me since I couldn't stomach the encounter, a lot was made of San Fran's coach, Jim Harbaugh's cold handshake with the Giants' coach, Tom Coughlin.

I went back and viewed the exchange and, although it wasn't a warm embrace, felt it sufficed given the circumstances. After all, Jim had just suffered a gut wrenching loss in his first attempt to take his team to the Super Bowl and chatting at midfield longer than necessary evidently wasn't high on Jim's list at the time.

Fast forward to Sunday and Kyle Stanley's three shot blown lead on the 18th at Torrey Pines to force a playoff between him and Brendt Snedeker and my attitude shifted a bit. After Stanley three-putted to cap off his eight, he was left with a few handshakes separating him and a playoff to win the tournament. The anger, and quite possibly embarrassment, was screaming from the television. Granted the last thing anyone in that situation wants to engage in is a gentlemanly formality of the game, and instead crawl somewhere dark. But life lessons appear when all else seems lost. For me, it seemed pretty obvious (and believe me I know it's easy to say from where I was sitting): win or lose, you have to carry your head, and character, high.

Life is unfair and at times cruel to us all, but rather than embracing the opponent, embrace the moment. We'll only grow as humans if we accept defeat and look the victor straight in the eye and admit, you were better than me today. But I'll learn from this loss and comeback stronger the next time.

Additionally, let's face it: it's only a sport. Perspective is a quality worth seeking out. If we constantly aim to put life's challenges in the order of where they fall on our priority list, I personally feel we'll handle them much better.

I used to watch a lot of sporting events with my Mom and each time she'd feel bad that someone had to lose. She'd always ask, "Can't they both win?" She of course knew this wasn't possible, but her innocent questioning never got old. I always loved her, and still do, for this. (Except when she felt bad for the Red Sox during the 2004 American League Championship against the Yankees. The Yankees were pounding the Sox into oblivion and she suddenly felt sympathy for them, even though she was raised in New York. After the collapse, and to this day, I blame her for that defeat.)

Now when she asks I simply reply, "No."

If both teams won, what would be the point of competition? I'm not too up to speed on the younger generations, but apparently ribbons and awards are given for everything under the sun these days. I hear a lot of criticism for this because if we all got ribbons when I was a kid, we'd feel entitlement every time we lost. It wouldn't allow us to cherish the victories and learn to live with the losses. Perhaps Jim Harbaugh and Kyle Stanley always received ribbons when they were kids.

Then again maybe not. Maybe in their mind winning is priority No. 1.

Sports like tennis, golf and the hockey playoffs should serve as examples for sportsmanship because embracing your opposition is customary when it's all said and done. Instead of sulking in your misery and hanging your head low, you must force yourself to lift your head, hold a steady gaze into the eyes of the team/player/golfer that just beat you, shake their hand and accept the outcome.

You may not like it, but it only makes you stronger. And along the path of life, it never hurts to be a little stronger.

Hours of golf practice: 623

Years of life practice: 36

Golf: A Life's Game

Hello, golfers!  A very happy 2012 to everyone!

As you can see, I've been quite out of touch lately.  Although some hours have been accumulated since we last spoke, golf has been in the back drop most of these last few months.

Ironically, the winter in my parts has been mild, and getting a few practice sessions in should have been easy.  But the drive was missing and I instead continued to hibernate.  During this time, though, my mind raced faster than ever.  I've always had a passion for writing and sharing parts of my life with you has brought me much enjoyment.  But I felt a change coming.  What would The Golf Blog look like for 2012?  Should I allow it to fizzle away?  What about shifting gears and branching out to a larger audience?  This last one kept bubbling to the top, and my thoughts compounded and fed into it.

I contemplated letting The Golf Blog fade away and starting an entirely new venture, but that wasn't in my DNA.  Quitting something that I hold dear to me didn't seem right or fair to myself.  But altering it to fit my new thinking did.  

Maybe this change won't make much sense for The Golf Blog, but more and more I'm realizing there's more to life than golf.  In turn, I'm also realizing how much golf's core philosophies should be implemented into society.  Follow me here...

Right now, I'm focused on sharpening aspects of my game.  It's true.  Golf will never NOT be a part of my life.  I'll always consider golf a permanent fixture and will continue to preach excellence through hard practice.  But similar to how I figured combining writing with golf made sense to me, combining golf and life makes even more sense.  After all, golf is a small fraction of life, while life is, well, life.  

There are a ton of ideas rattling through my mind that I want to accomplish on this path, the first being to create a network of healthy and positive individuals.  Golf is a subplot to our existence.  In other words, they go hand in hand.  If you're a jokester off the course, there's a great likelihood you're one on the course.  If you're a gentleman off, you're probably one on.  And so on.  Our time on this earth is short.  Why not spend it with great people.

The second thought for The Golf Blog is to incorporate everyday life with you here.  Don't worry, I'm not going to bore you with mundane stories of my encounter with the woman in line at Dunkin' Donuts (at least I hope I won't bore you), but I am going to share life's little tidbits that make us better people, or as I see it. 

Finally, I'm going to stop trying to be perfect.  I should say I'm going to stop expecting to be perfect.  I'll still try.  As much as I want to perfect this game of golf, and life, I've come to the realization that it's not going to happen.  Actually, it's not a question of it not happening so much as it's not going to happen how I want it to.  One day I will shoot in the 70s, but I'll be damn if I beat myself up trying to get there.  Personally, I'm getting older and loosing my hair, along with a step or two compared with those younger than me.  But I'm also getting wiser and more appreciative.  So I'm not going to be a perfect human being either.  As with golf, though, I'll still try.

For all of you that visited this blog to follow my pursuit towards golf perfection - don't go.  It's still an integral part of my journey.  I'll continue to share my experiences on the course just as much as off it.  At times, the line separating the two may become blurred.  But the distinctions will always remain.  Golf is a game.  Life is not.  Let's try and enjoy the two nonetheless.     

Will The Golf Blog still hold your interest if it's not centered around hours of golfing practice?  Only time will tell.  I will ask that you give it a shot and tell your friends that at The Golf Blog, not only does practice in golf make perfect on the course, but practice in life makes happiness everywhere else.

As Winston Churchill once said, "Don't ever, ever, ever give up."

Hours of golf practice: 620

Years of life practice: 36

A Milestone Thought

In all the thoughts I've had while playing golf, the most telling to date occurred on the course two weeks ago. Unfortunately it continued resurfacing throughout the round, but fortunately, it's since become a building block on my path towards great golf.

The thought wasn't anything specific per se, but rather a philosophical approach to focused play, or lack thereof. While having the thought continuously popping into my mind, I even followed up the recognition of it by thinking that if I could turn this last corner, truly successful golf might be right around the bend.

Enough with the anticipation, I know. My thought, or thoughts, was always on the next shot. For instance, I would hit the green in regulation and be thinking about two-putting for par. Or I'd fail to get to the green in three on a par 4 and find myself thinking about getting up-and-down for bogey. This mindset even went so far as thinking of going par, par on the last two holes for a 42 on the back. (I went bogey, bogey.)

Now believe me, I realize the absurdity of this thought process. Each time a moment described above entered my mind, I'd do my best to shoo it away. But then instead of concentrating on the shot at hand, I was focusing on focusing. I knew this thinking had to go, however at the same time understood the opportunity for improvement.

Fast forward a week later and my whole approach was on executing the shot before me. It's so clich , and I've probably stated it before, but I was adamant on not worrying about the previous shot or the upcoming. If any thoughts infiltrated my concentration, I refused to welcome them.

Although I can't say I accomplished this on every shot (there was a two hole span where I allowed another golfer to get in my head), I can say that because of more tunneled thinking, my execution was near flawless, and my score a personal best.

That's right. One of my continuous goals is to better my score (whose isn't?). With this mark always in sight, I took to the course this weekend for two rounds of golf. The first had glimmers of potential, but entering the second I had a feeling something more was brewing. I knew a more concerted effort to staying present was in me. This time, I literally took one shot at a time and shoved down any desire to count my score, consider possibilities, or think about how the round was unfolding.

Believe me, the urge to peak at the card was overwhelming at times. Especially after going par, par, bogey, par, par, it was killing me. But each time I ignored the callings and saw my thoughts merely drift by as the next shot lay before me. Afterwards I was extremely pleased with my score, an 85 - one stroke better than my previous best, but great golf requires looking back in order to excel further.

There were back-to-back three-putts after getting on in regulation; a topped tee shot on 18 that led to a double bogey; a missed three foot putt for birdie after sticking an 8-Iron pin high; and the ultimate lesson for the round: a seven on a par 3 after letting an unethical golfer get in my head. (I'd say more but I prefer to give this golfer the benefit of the doubt.)

Overall, learning from my always-looking-ahead thought process was more gratifying than the 85. Don't mistake me, I'm thrilled about the personal best. But my goal was to overcome a mental obstacle on my path to great golf. And I feel I did that with enormous efficacy.

There may be larger hurdles to leap in the days, months and years ahead. But as for right now, similar to how a swing becomes memorized in the muscles, I consider focused golf - being present on executing one shot at a time- engrained in my mental attitude on the game.

And for me, it's a milestone I've been waiting for.

Hours of practice: 590

There's Nothing Like Tournament Golf

Over the weekend nine friends and I embarked on our annual golfing tournament. We're not talking about a bunch of guys getting together for the sake of having a few beers, reminiscing about the old days and calling it a day. No. This was serious.

We're talking about five teams of two battling over the span of 36 holes on Saturday - best-ball, round robin style - then letting the dust settle and playing another 18 on Sunday for a shot at the chance to be deemed the Champion of the 2011 Mountain Manor Invitational. And although there are no FedEx points accounted for, pride and a traditional trophy were at stake.

Before offering my perspective, let me tell you: if you enjoy golf but have never had the opportunity to experience a tournament format, do yourself a favor and grab a few friends and organize something similar. The level of play is magnified and the intensity is second to none. To illustrate my point, imagine standing on the last tee box tied with the team you're facing off against three holes a piece. Your partner potentially hits an unplayable. You're last to tee off knowing the other team has a decent look at the green. Crushing one just to show you can does you no good. Making sure you put one in play is crucial, otherwise the hole is just about over, and the match to follow. This, my friends, is pressure. And it's great! If you appreciate golf for its mental demands, tournament golf is simply fantastic and right up your alley.

OK, so leading up to this weekend I was determined to sharpen a few personal flaws in my game (not that there aren't many still remaining). I promised myself I'd take one last range session to work on a few things, and in response to that promise, a reader commented on how I should approach my practices.

To summarize, he basically stated instead of hitting the same shot over and over, with the hopes that it would become memorized in the muscles, he suggested never hitting the same shot twice in a row. Because when you think about it, how many times do you consecutively hit the same shot twice? (To read more of this reader's comment, click here.)

With this method in mind, I attacked practice like a round of 18. With a club in hand, I focused on what I was trying to accomplish and delivered as best I could. (It's worth noting that in my previous sessions, just because I wasn't implementing this tactic didn't mean I wasn't aiming to deliver as best I could.) Rather than trying to hit a poor shot over just to see if I could, I accepted the poorness of it, and moved on with the session.

For some reason, it worked like hell. The four hours I devoted that day were efficient and calm. I never got frustrated nor discouraged. As we all know, though, how practice on the range carries over onto the course always remains the great unknown.

On the Friday morning before our weekend began, three goals entered my mind that I committed to for the entirety of the tourney. They were as follows:

- Keep my tee shots in the fairway
- Hit my long irons with more consistency
- Maintain mental composure

While the second one mostly fell short, I'm happy to say the first was probably the most successful, and proud to say the last was my greatest achievement.

I will admit that at times keeping my state of mind centered on the task at hand was a challenge. For starters, there was the heat. Couple the extreme temperatures with playing 36 holes of golf and believe me, your mental state would deteriorate as well (at least your game would). Over the course of 54 holes, and two days of golf, there were maybe two moments where I mentally broke down.

The first was after my team blew an opportunity to go two holes up, then proceeded to lose the next two, the weight of playing more than the usual 18 was taking its toll on me physically, which in turn affected my mechanics.

The second was after losing the semi-finals, we squared off with a chance for a 3rd place
finish. The significance of it all seemed mentally worthless, but that's the necessary composure I speak of. (We won this match and finished 3rd.) In these two moments I didn't have it.

Fortunately I had my partner to lift my spirits and help put matters into perspective. My temper tantrum lasted all of one or two poor shots and immediately I was focused again. But knowing golf isn't structured towards a team dynamic, I still have a lot of mental work to do.

Afterwards, and even now a few days later, I can't help but wonder that without the format of the weekend, would I have been so concentrated on execution? My gut is telling me no. After all, on a leisurely day out with friends, are you caring about playing good golf as much as if you were competing? As much as I'd like to say I would, I'd be lying.

Nevertheless, if I had to grade my performance for the weekend, I'd give myself a B-. As I mentioned, my long irons could have been more consistent along with a better short game when it counted. These two factors were responsible for bringing my grade down. Off the tee, overall, I'd say I earned an A-. My drives and 3-Wood were struck solidly with only a handful of errant shots coming to mind. My putting was OK, probably earning somewhere around a B to B+. And my mental composure, considering the factors I've already alluded to, would fall in the A range.

Aside from the mechanical obstacles golf offers, there are always the people that accompany you on any given round. The nine that did this weekend were an absolute pleasure to play with. Thanks to everyone for a great weekend, and my partner, Brian, for dealing with my intense insanity. Most of you haven't experienced it as intimately as Brian did, but sometimes I take this game a little too seriously. This weekend Brian took the brunt of it. He was a gentleman and a great partner when I needed him most. Thanks, Brian!

Coming off this golfing high may be the hardest challenge of all. With the rest of the season ahead of me, I look at it two ways: It'll be hard to match the intensity of the moment, but it's uplifting to know that my game can be taken to new heights.

Brian and I of course didn't have the good fortune of taking home the title. That went to a worthy Champion.

But I do look forward to next year.

Hours of practice: 575

Allowing Time to Enjoy Myself

Over the last few weeks I've managed to play a few rounds with friends and family sandwiched in between good ole fashioned range work. In the process, two red flags have since surfaced.

To start with, a fellow golfing friend pointed out that perhaps my focus primarily on accumulating hours of practice - instead of concentrating on perfecting aspects of my swing - may be misguided.

Ironically, days before this advice I caught myself driving to the range, feeling as though I was "going through the motions." So with both the experience of beginning to believe the hours were taking over my quest, as opposed to quality golf, and my friend's observation that that they actually were, a recommitment to my swing was in order.

Now admittedly, this rededication to my game has yet to begin. The reason being red flag No. 2: an utter inability to play in the moment. Rather than staying present in the fact that a game was being played - one in which I adore - or enjoying the company of people I respect, golf was being taken way too seriously.

There have been a handful of times that I can recall feeling completely disconnected from what I've been, or should be, trying to accomplish. Basically, instead of striving for quality over quantity, I was doing just the opposite.  And due to this, my time on the course was suffering. 

I realize this blog sometimes feels like a broken record. And if so, I apologize for that. But it seems my swing is getting away from where I've wanted it to go: more compact yet free swinging.

Here's what I've felt and, after video taping myself, noticed with my swing:

• my front arm was bending upon my backswing
• my club plane was breaking the line parallel to the ground at the top of my swing
• I was not hitting down on the ball and as a result "thinning" a lot of shots
• my left hip was swaying back rather than coiling (still)

Finally, and again while I write this now, it hit me like a ton of bricks. Stop being so damn analytical and go out and enjoy this remarkable game. Sure, we should definitely aim to better our own and by improving personal mechanics, will certainly do so.

But a line should be drawn dividing where we expect to take our game for the long-term, and realistically where it's capable of heading now.

Look, as much as you may be tired of reading about it, I'm tired of writing it. My game isn't in a good place right now, but like us all, there are glimmers of hope that allow us to press on.  Every so often during a round a crisp shot will surface, and when it does, the feeling that all the hard work being put forth may actually be paying dividends.  But like a buddy and I were talking about this week, it's all about the consistency. 

In two weeks I'm putting my game up to a major test. Some high school friends and I are spending a weekend dedicated to tournament golf. I'm not looking to shoot the lights out, but I do plan to commit these next two weeks on fine tuning a few specifics.

By the time June 17th rolls around, the little details being ironed out will hopefully be ingrained into my swing. I'm not expecting perfection, just a reason to enjoy myself.

Hours of practice: 557