No. 19: Nothing's Coming Out
Dear Pards,
First off, I’m lying about where I’m from. I’d tell you where I really live, but if my buddies read this, they’ll know it’s me, and I still have three charity scrambles left to play this month.
I need help. My game is in absolute shambles.
I keep getting invited to tournaments because I’ve spent years saying things like, “We should get out for a round sometime,” and, “Yeah, I usually shoot in the low 80s.”
That said, my GHIN is nowhere near a reflection of my golf game. If my actual ability met my index in a dark alley, they wouldn’t recognize each other.
Standing on the first tee of a hit-and-giggle in front of randoms right now is worse than using a urinal at a sold-out sporting event. (Yes, I have stage fright. No, that’s not the point.)
My partners keep telling me, “Just have fun out there.” Which is starting to sound like my doctor looking at my labs saying, “We’re going to try a few things.”
Can you help a brother out?
-Self-Conscious in Scottsdale
Dear Self-Conscious,
Were you one of those kids who dropped their drawers all the way down to their ankles just to go pee after lunch in Kindergarten? I always laughed at those kids, though looking back, I now respect the confidence.
Thanks for your honesty. Your situation is one that I’m sure many of our readers find themselves in. The golf part that is.
The fact that the lie of “usually shooting in the low 80s” is getting you invited to scramble outings at all signals to me that the peers you're playing with are not, in fact, there to win. It sounds to me like these guys just want to delete a couple of pops while dodging the last half of work on a random Wednesday. Take comfort in that. Regardless of whether you flush a five iron from the fairway or lay the sod over a seven-yard pitch, the reality is that your group is going to be writing down “par” on most holes anyway.
Though it sounds like launching a piss missile down the middle is hard for you right now (in more ways than one), I do empathize with your inability to perform like you know you’re capable of. “Just have fun” sounds like the pep talk to an 8-year-old soccer player who shows up simply for the orange slices and Capri-Suns.
Another option would be telling your friends you’re a terrible golfer but a really good hang. Which may still land you the invite, but you’ll have zero expectations of getting the ball anywhere close to the center of the club face.
As far as actual help. I have a great urologist contact I will send over offline.
P╞r╠℮P.S. All month, the Postage Stamp at the top of the newsletter will be Shinnecock, the site of this year’s US Open on Long Island, by Dave Baysden. It’s also the art on this month’s postcard for members of the Postage Club.
I spent a few days in Dallas last week on “business.” Which isn’t always the adjective my wife uses whenever my golf clubs come with me to the airport. Not only was I fortunate enough to play Doak’s brand-new Wild Spring Dunes (which I’m still processing), I also got to spend time dreaming about the future and what I hope to create with some people and brands I have immense respect for. More to come on that front.
Last night, I received a message from a member of our community regarding our June print, which was sent to our subscribers last week. After losing his Dad at a young age, he later learned of a fire his late father had for golf. Since then, he’s used the game as an instrument to father boys of his own. His note was a stark reminder of why this whole project started. To use golf to not just write about life, but encourage others to sit down and do the same.
I’m thankful for the community being built around a game that none of us will ever really figure out. That said, we’d love for you to join us in trying.
