Many summers ago, I recall lying in front of the TV, wearing in my shorts, sipping a refreshing drink, enjoying the warm breeze, watching the Masters. I found myself being strangely fascinated by the game. Until that point I had considered it a game for the rich, well-to-do and young, loud, brash sales reps.



I decided to get of my lazy backside and have a go – is it as addictive as they say? Surely it can’t be that hard to knock a small white ball around a field of trees and sandpits!

So, without the first clue in what to do I went to the local golf course. I watched a while and decided that I ought to use the practice area (driving range) before ‘wowing’ everyone with my natural skill on the course.

I asked the man in the shop to have a go on the driving range –

“How many balls?" he asked

“Just the one" I replied

“100 or 200?" came the reply

“Oh I see, just 100" I said feeling I’d soon get the grip of it.

It was only as I left the shop I realized I’d forgotten something –so I returned. “Have you got any sticks?" I enquired.

“You mean CLUBS"

“Whatever"

“1, 2,3,4,5,6,7,8, or 9?"

I was starting to wonder what the obsession was with having a lot of everything.

“Just 1".

So I walked out with my token, long club and went to the range. I put the token in the machine and listened to it make all sorts of strange noises. Bang, gurgle, clunk and then 100 balls started shooting out.

It was only at that moment my hawk like vision spotted the baskets in the corner. 100 balls continued to shoot out of the machine, over my feet and across the floor.

Half an hour later I had picked them up and went to a bay. I positioned myself between two older gentlemen. Figuring they couldn’t be that good (Oh how I was wrong!!). I put my ball on the tee and prepared to whack the ball as hard as I could. Having been into bodybuilding for some years I figured I could outdo anyone else.

However, due to the heat, the energy I’d expended collecting balls and the adrenaline – my hands were a bit sweaty. I swung. I looked up and watched my no 1 club flying 75 yards up the driving range, looking like a giant silver boomerang. It was only after I had to stop twenty people from swinging while I walked in front of them to get it that I realized that golf is harder than it looks.

A good golf swing is a combination of many things -

-Equipment

-Timing

-Delivery

-Precision

-Relaxation

-Grip

-Timing

-Stance and the list goes on.

– When they come together it’s pure joy – when just one thing is out – it is frustrating.

The rule is the same for anything - the right combination, in the right time leads to joy. Get it out of sync and it's painful.

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