It always amazes me when I think about the different emotions I experience at the end of a round of golf. Most days, I am in a celebratory mood when I enter the “19th Hole” for a cold beer and camaraderie, as I just successfully made it through another 18 holes. Still, there are the times when I really feel down or downright angry after a round of golf, and overall bad play isn’t usually the cause of my disdain – I am used to floundering. Rather, I just cannot stand it when I don’t take advantage of chances to reach personal benchmarks.
Many years ago, just about the time I came to grips with the fact that professional golf was not in my future, I can recall a round that still burns me to this day. Perhaps there was something ‘extra’ in my morning Cheerios, because I was hitting irons flush all day. Never have I felt in such control, and I was nailing every shot under 150 yards to within five to ten feet of the pin. You would think that I would have been thrilled to taste just a bit of greatness, but instead, I could not take my mind off of the fact that my driving was atrocious, and I only made one putt after an approach all afternoon. By the 18th hole, I knew I would most likely make another bogey, which I did, and by the 19th Hole, I was ready to drown my frustrations.
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