I failed.
In my quest to regain golfing glory, I failed.
I started out this blog by sharing the dream that I had as a kid that I couldn’t shake:
“As much as I’ve tried to shake my competitive golfing dreams, they won’t die. Ever since I was a kid I’ve dreamt of winning the U.S. Open. And while I know that’s likely not in the cards, I still want to play in one. Though still improbable, that’s a far more reasonable dream.”
I knew this was somewhat delusional because of how competitive golf is at the highest level. The idea of playing in a U.S. Open seemed crazy, but it felt like it was still within reach. Even if there was a 1% chance, I had to give it a shot.
I can honestly say that I put in my best effort.
So much so, at times this season I felt like I had a second job…my wife can attest to that… Between workouts, practice, metal game work, writing, playing, analyzing, instruction, new clubs, practice rounds, and tournament rounds, I went to a level that gave me the best chance of succeeding.
Knowing this makes failing easier to take. I’m certain that had I not gone to this level, I wouldn’t have been able to properly kill my dream.
From a results standpoint since my last blog, I played well in Philly Open qualifier, shooting +2 in tough conditions, finishing tied for 8th (Out of 144) and easily qualifying. Then I had 20-day break from playing due to work and a family vacation, came back and jumped right into my club championship. The first round was rough, I shot 80, and then was +4 over the final 36 holes (shooting 72, 76) and was pretty happy with how I played. There were some flashes of stellar play that I thought could carry over to the Philly Open a few days later.
Unfortunately, although my game wasn’t off by much in the first round of the Philly Open, on an unfamiliar golf course that was playing tough—windy, firm, fast conditions magnified a couple mistakes early in my round and I was quickly +6, and in a spot where I was forced to take chances that didn’t work out. I shot 82 and finished near the bottom of the field.
The Gap is Too Large
You can’t fail until you give up, but I’ve decided that I’m no longer willing to put in the time, or make the sacrifices in my life, to pursue it. The gap between where my game is now, and the standard that I would have to reach to play in a U.S. Open is too wide and not worth what I would give up. I gave it enough to realize I didn’t want to give more.
I could feel the internal tension, especially in my last two events. I wasn’t too upset with how I played in them, but I recognized that my heart wasn’t into competing like it was at the start. I couldn’t muster the same level intensity that I had early in the year.
Early in the year, the opportunity to practice like I did when I was in high school and college was amazing. I could spend several hours diving deep into the game, chipping and putting, hitting balls. Being creative. Trying out different shots and having fun with it. But to keep dipping into that well again and again started to feel excessive, and the balls that I was dropping outside of golf started to be more noticeable—time with my family and friends, work projects, other hobbies and activities that I love. I stopped running and playing tennis because of the potential for a strain or injury. I didn’t want to risk a setback impacting all the work that I put into.
Golf was consuming too much of my down time, I only listened to golf podcasts, read golf books, and watched more golf on TV. My mind was continually focused on how to get better, and what I needed to get ready for the next event. I really enjoy learning and improving, but that energy was primarily directed towards golf.
Perhaps the 20-day break helped to amplify what I was giving up and how singularly focused I had become.
I believe it would have been worth it, had I truly been happy with the choices that I was making, but it started to feel like a job, where I had to play/practice to get the reps in. That’s a tell-tale sign. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I was unhappy. I still love the game and love practicing, just not under the banner of a childhood dream that no longer aligns with who I am and what I care about now.
I am a different person from when I first set this goal when I was a kid. Back then I had this big dream that felt real and tangible but was ripped away by my inability to fix my mental game problems.
Even though those mental game issues are firmly in rear view mirror, and I had the financial stability and support from my wife to give it a real shot, the reality is that I’m different now and this dream no longer aligns with who I am and what’s most important to me now.
Theoretically even if it was possible for me to get to play in a U.S. Open, would it be worth what I would have to give up over the next several years? I don’t think so. It, of course, would be one of the coolest and most exciting things I could do, but the risk/reward doesn’t line up.
I suspect that being misaligned was straining my performance and I could feel that in the last couple of events. I even had conscious thoughts in the middle of the round questioning what I was doing out there—and yes, that was happening even when I was playing well.
Killing the Dream
I feel some relief making this decision. I’ll still play tournament golf just under the banner of fun and enjoyment, without the demands or pressure to practice/prepare. I can play when I can and enjoy the game, and the competition, for the purity of it.
Don’t get me wrong, there’s also sadness, the kind that you feel when grieving the death of a relative or friend. This dream has been a part of me for the better part of three decades. It would be silly to think that I could move on without a second thought. Writing this blog has been cathartic, and I’m sure there will be other days where I’ll cry again.
The dream is dead and I’m ok with that. It’s time to move on.
I progressed a lot this season. My swing, knowledge of my game and myself, decision-making process, focus, physicality/strength, all improved. The season had its highs and lows. I’m grateful to have had the opportunity for all of it.
Knowing all this I’ve decided to shut it down for the season. I withdrew from a tournament for the first time in my life. I’m reworking my training with Abi to be geared towards general strength, power and mobility, I’ve reached out to my former tennis instructor to start playing in a weekly drill, I’ll slowly regain my stamina for running, and I look forward to playing fun rounds of golf with friends.
And I’d be remiss if I didn’t acknowledge that I am just 5 years away from being eligible for the U.S. Senior Open…maybe it’s time to dream a new dream…that event would be pretty cool to play in, and perhaps I can pursue it while still living a dynamic life that lines up with my ideals. Perhaps we’ll find out…
