By Mike Besa
AS much golf as I play (and it is far less than most of you think), I’ve been in somewhat of a rut the last year or so. In the last two years I played quite a bit lately but it’s always one of these fun or fund-raising tournaments with mulligans and generous concession circles. Not exactly the atmosphere where you can really develop your game.
I hit rock bottom in about February of 2014 and, at that point, I was playing just once or twice a month. I’ve lost interest. It was becoming a grind. In July or so, I decided to stop and take stock of just what I wanted from the game before I gave it up in disgust.
Golf wasn’t a first choice for me as a kid. My grandfather was an extremely avid golfer but my father took to the game quite casually and it was always with my grandfather or his friends and the kids were never involved. So I took the route of more athletic and, later, extreme physical pursuits. Golf was an afterthought; something to do when I finally hung up my running shoes.
Then life happened. On a training run one day I felt a sharp pain in my right ankle. This ankle had been damaged quite severely during the US Squash Nationals in Los Angeles and was never quite the same since. The injury had turned arthritic. I was done with active sports.
So my attention turned to my more sedate activities; billiards and golf. Truth be told, I was quite a bit further along in billiards, having played since I was a student at De La Salle University. Problem was that I didn’t smoke and billiard halls reek of it. Efren “Bata” Reyes and some of his contemporaries are veritable chimneys, as were most of the guys I played against. So it was that I chose golf.
I cherished the game. In spite of my infirmities, I was competitive again. I won again. Ah, winning. It’s more powerful than any drug. It kept me going. Then life happened again and, in a fortuitous turn of events, my passion became my work.
Now that’s a two-edged sword if ever there was one. As much as my passion fueled my desire to work and taste yet more success, failures and conflict at work could adversely affect one’s passion and cause a breakdown in the game.
Wouldn’t you know it? That’s exactly what happened. So disastrous was the outcome that I almost gave up on the game. Then I remembered why I took it up in the first place, and how that passion for golf drove me to eat, sleep and breathe the game. It was what made me who I am.
So I decided to get serious. I began putting time in at the range and practicing my putting at home. Nothing special. I just started putting more work in. The results I sought came last November. Not soon enough to do much good in our Founders Cup foray at The Orchard, but I was happy the game came around at all.
I was striking the ball well again. Finding fairways and greens and holing putts. Making shots. Getting up and down. My scores showed it. I had one glorious run through the Kalachuchi Cup in Calatagan and through to the Philippine National Seniors Championships at Mount Malarayat and in that time I failed to break 80 just twice. I played two days with eventual winner Eddie Bagtas and found I could stay with him when I played my best. I didn’t win then, but I truly didn’t care. I had gained the respect of my peers. I proved to myself that I can do better than just hang with the best senior golfers in the land. That was worth more to me than any trophy.
We all get into situations when we lose direction and motivation in our sport. Don’t despair. Dig deep. Take time and think about why you so love this crazy game in the first place. Rekindle that spark and nurture it back until it becomes a roaring fire in your gut. Go out and play. Make your own way through the game.
That said, it’s a great takeaway as a life lesson and not just one that concerns golf. But isn’t that why we all love this crazy game? Because, in so many aspects, life imitates golf.
See you on the links.
1 comment
Great revelations of the game of golf and life Mike..Thanks