On dishonesty, excuses, self-pity, unfairness and shock

Okay, okay, it’s true. I haven’t been totally honest – that’s with me, let alone you. I’ve not told the whole story of what happened the other day. I suppose I haven’t come to terms with it yet.

Basically, I had a shocker. I’m still in shock, in fact. I’m bewildered. I’m still trying to grasp what happened. After three months of consistent improvement, I crashed and burnt.

I went round my home course in 17 over.

And that after parring the 1^st, 2^nd, 7^th and 14^th – four of the six toughest holes on the course and where I’d readily accept a bogey.

I can find excuses, of course.

It was brass-monkey cold, for instance. The greens began frozen hard, then began to thaw wet and soft. Their pace seemed impossible to read. But I still began with three pars and was three over after seven.

So I’m still in shock. I mean, I’m sure my ball striking is better than it’s ever been. I feel as if I’m a better player all round than I was a few months back. I’m confident I’m on an upward trend. But 17 over is 17 over.

More excuses? Well, my new chipping method, as I last posted, was wonderful in terms of technique, yet poor in terms of distance control. I also missed a bunch of short putts. And on the 6th I hit my drive about 80 yards along the ground after forgetting to smash off the layer of ice encasing the bottom of my shoes.  

Worst of all, I unforgivably lapsed into self-pity on the 18^th when was seemed an okay-ish drive ended up out of bounds – unannounced, the OB markers had been shifted 20 yards further in on that particular day. “Unfair!” I grumbled, on my way to a bitter, frankly-I-don’t-give-a-damn  quadruple bogey (of course golf is unfair, Tony, it’s how you deal with it that counts, surely you’ve learnt that by now?)

But I’m still shocked. I mean, I know so much more about my swing now since teaming up with Dave and Steve at Knightsbridge. I understand my faults and foibles. I’m tightening up my technique by the day. I should be threatening to hit a 75. How could I possibly shoot an 87?

Adam, my 8-handicap partner, must be asking himself the same thing. He just couldn’t handle the greens, then, on the par-four 10^th, he hit both his first ball, then his provisional out of bounds on the way to a 10. I shouldn’t think he’s scored so badly on a single hole for the past decade.

Oh well. Last night my overtired daughter burst into tears after struggling with Maths homework. I heard myself tell her: “You’re good at Maths. You’re doing fine. It’s how you deal with setbacks that matters.”

It won’t be easy, but I’ll try to take my own advice. No tears yet. Stilll shocked, though.