A Golf Odyssey: Jerry Sullivan’s quest for a club championship
Improving player doesn’t know the score
News senior sports columnist Jerry Sullivan will write an occasional series of stories as he spends the summer chasing a championship at Brighton Park Golf Club.
During our first lesson, Marlene Davis told me it might be a good idea to stop keeping score. I was working on a new grip, establishing a pre-shot routine, reinventing myself as a golfer. Why complicate the process by obsessing over the scores? That could come later.
Like a typical guy, I ignored her. Really, what’s the point if you don’t keep score? I’m a competitive person. I scoff at high-minded parents who want every youth sports event to end in a tie. Sorry kids, but it’s a rough world out there. They keep score in life.
But in time, I came around to her thinking. A week or so ago, I came back from a vacation and had Monday free. So after doing chores for about 15 minutes, I rushed off to play golf at Brighton, my home course. It was junior golf day, but the starter managed to sneak me alone off the back nine to beat the rush.
I hadn’t played in more than a week. Undaunted, I teed off without any warm-up and butchered the first four holes. I was in such a hurry I didn’t even write down the scores. This seemed like a convenient time to follow the teacher’s sage advice.
From that point on, I was going to enjoy the glorious weather and keep the score card in my back pocket. You can imagine what happened next. I relaxed and started playing better. I immediately made par 4 on the 14th hole (my fifth) and played the last five holes of my opening nine in 5-over par.
At the turn, the starter put me in a group with three other guys. He said I’d especially enjoy playing with John, who was a decent stick. The other two, Harrison and Chris, weren’t bad, either. I hit my best drive of the day on the first hole and all three of them drove it past me.
Still, I continued to relax and play well. The score card remained in my pocket. John was closer to my age than the other two and we hit it off pretty well. He gave me some tips on balance and tempo. At one point, I told him about my decision not to keep score. We joked about the value of positive thinking on the golf course — and vice versa.
I had been putting well all day. I told John I was at that point where you expect every putt to find the hole. I parred three of the first four holes on my second nine. For the first time in my golfing life, I had played a nine-hole stretch in 6-over par.
“I’m making it pretty hard on myself not to keep score,” I said.
About that time, John Corrigan told me he was the reigning club champion at Brighton. As in, the championship flight winner. And here I was, an aspiring “C” flight contender, nearly keeping up and getting compliments on my putting. I bogeyed the next three holes. I was 4 over for seven holes. Two more bogeys and I’d shoot 42 on a nine for the first time ever.
The score card was nearly in flames in my rear pocket. At the next hole, a long par 3, we had to wait for the group in front of us for the first time. I couldn’t stand it any longer. I snatched the score card out of my pocket and began scribbling down my scores.
Then I got up on the tee, forgot my pre-shot routine, contemplated several dozen potential calamities, and shanked the ball sideways into the shrubbery along the 290. Then I angrily hacked my way to a seven. As I stormed off the green, I admitted to John that I’d started writing my scores on the card.
John shook his head ruefully and recited the famous line from “the Gambler”: “There’ll be time enough for countin’ when the dealin’s done.”
After a finishing seven, my dealin’ was done. It added up to 98, my first sub-100 round since late April. I’d played a nice 12-hole stretch in 9-over par, and the other six holes in 17 over. There was a lesson in there somewhere.
The guy who played those 12 good holes is more than capable of breaking 90 and being a decent golfer.
It’s the other guy, the one who couldn’t be content to play well, who had to write down the scores before the end of the round, who is the problem. He needs to listen to the teacher and stop allowing negative thinking and anger to sabotage his game.
At my next lesson, Davis gave me a book titled “Every Shot Must Have a Purpose”. It was written by Pia Nilsson and Lynn Marriott, two of the top teachers in the world. Annika Sorenstam, who wrote the foreword, credits Nilsson, a fellow Swede, with providing her a “pathway” to become the No. 1 women’s player in the world.
After only a few pages, I felt as if these women knew me personally. This pearl jumped out from Page 4: “And how often is it the case that, almost as soon as you start adding up your score, the round falls apart?”
They talked about negative emotions “hijacking” your golf swing. There’s an entire chapter titled “Anger Makes Us Stupid.” No kidding. They might as well have my picture in there.
As I’ve said before, it’s nice to know you’re not alone. We know golf is largely mental. But the deeper you get in this game, the truer it becomes. In the end, it’s not about the score or the swing. As my new book says, it’s about the person. I’m working on him.
