My son didn't make the cut.
A solid round of golf trying to qualify for a junior state championship. 1 stroke kept him out.
Later that night, when the disappointment started to ease, we talked about the practice he’d put in over the previous weeks.
Having been around junior golf for the last few years, my gut feel is by the time you're 16 years old, you’ve got to be regularly finishing 18-hole rounds in the mid-70s (3-5 strokes over par) or 9-hole rounds in the high 30s to be considered good. Very good… you’re regularly shooting par … maybe 1 or 2 over ... again, consistently. 212 golfers … you’re frequently under par.
“Talent is a dreadfully cheap commodity, cheaper than table salt… Discipline and constant work are the whetstones upon which the dull knife of talent is honed until it becomes sharp enough, hopefully, to cut through even the toughest meat and gristle.”
Stephen King | 1947 - | American horror writer
My son and I researched the work college players put in each week. When we learned of their time and energy commitment, I said, “You can have a lot of fun playing the game, playing for your high school, maybe club level golf in college, and that’s absolutely fine. But if you want more than that, you have to make the choice to Cross The Line and make a bigger commitment and put in the work to the point where you have a right to be disappointed when you don’t get a great result.”
He saw it. We’ll see how it plays out.
It had me thinking about the people who tell me of their disappointment in not getting or achieving something. After a few questions, however, we learn they didn’t really put in the work. (Entitled to so much with such mediocre effort and time.)
A little unreasonable, don’t you think?
It reminded me that before I indulge in those occasional moments of self-pity over the thing I didn’t get or achieve … I need to be sure I earned my disappointment. And in doing that, I’m guessing I’ll be disappointed much less.
“I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself. A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough without ever having felt sorry for itself.”
D.H. Lawrence | 1885 - 1930 | English poet & writer
(that's my Shadow Golf Buddha above ... he's not as helpful as I'd like him to be)