I Threw My First Golf Temper Tantrum

I didn’t throw a club or swear profusely, but I sure as hell wasn’t happy.

I’ve been on a course a grand total of three times in the two years I’ve been into golf, and those were just par-3s. The third and most recent trip was yesterday, and it did NOT go as planned.

I’ve been taking lessons – so far, I’ve had eight lessons, four with a PGA pro and four with a certified instructor at TopGolf. Two different teachers, two different techniques and two different opinions of my swing. One calls me “Mighty Mouse”; I’m the longest hitter in his group lesson for women. The other has unreasonably high expectations of me, since I came in with a decent knowledge of swing technique after two years of watching the pros and the Golf Fix. But overall, they’ve both served to inflate my ego where my swing is concerned.

What neither of them seems to realize is that I’m completely self-taught and a complete perfectionist. Not a good combo.

10431555_10152611635492635_5321567773026902819_nI practice three or four times a week at the driving range and even sometimes in my apartment, much to my dog’s dismay.

His name is Ryder (yes, after the Ryder Cup) and he is NOT a golf fan. Ryder the rescue puppy seems to think that golf clubs are out to get him. He barks at them like they’re the vacuum’s cousin.

Anyway, in the span of these lessons, my swing has visibly improved. As such, both teachers have pushed to get me out on a course to practice.

Teacher’s pet that I am, I listened.

My roommate and I went to a short par-3 after a horrendous 20 minutes of practice at the driving range. I knew before we ever stepped foot on the course that I was going to have a rough day – everything I teed up went right and everything else was traveling low and short. Out of 50 balls, I maybe hit three decent shots. Completely out of the norm for me at a driving range, but we moved on to the course anyway.

Mistake.

I don’t do well when people are golfing behind me, so we waited until a couple groups went through and then teed up on the first hole when it seemed like we were the last group left.

Shanked it to the right. Carded a six.

Second hole – into the water. Took a second tee shot, into the water on the other side of the fairway.

Third hole – landed in a bunker, but close to the green. Missed the ball COMPLETELY swinging into the sand. Finally connected, shot the ball over the green into another bunker. Carded a nine.

Fourth hole – out-drove the green and landed somewhere in the trees. Didn’t even bother chasing it.

Fifth hole – on what should have been the easiest hole (only about 80 yards) I ended up to the left of the green. Tried to chip up onto the green, but instead rolled across into weeds. Picked up the ball and walked off to the sixth tee.

Sixth hole – water. Done. I quit. No more.

Ripped off my glove, shoved it in my bag. Slammed my driver cover back onto the club. Shoved tees and everything else into random pockets of my bag and tossed it onto the ground to wait on my roommate’s shot.

Try as he might, he couldn’t convince me to finish the last three holes. I pouted like a child, arms crossed, refusing to even consider the idea of trying again.

We left after he parred the last hole and I pouted out the window for the entire drive home, wallowing in my own pissy silence.

I realize that everyone has rounds like this. Especially considering I’d only golfed 18 holes prior to stepping foot on the course yesterday. But I KNOW I can drive straight. I know I can hit impressive iron shots. I know I can luck my way into a decent chip every once in awhile. Like many golfers, I expect my decent shots to translate to the course. I expect perfection.

I’m impatient and an idiot.

Two stoplights into the ride home, I’d decided I was giving up golf.

Two lights later, I’d lightened the ruling to just giving up the course.

By the time we were a block from home, I was already making a mental checklist of the things I wanted to work on with my instructors so I could go back out next week.

This sport is INFURIATING.

And yet we keep playing it.


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