If you think you know this game, think again. Even when you reach a place where you’re a player, you’re really not. Golf has a way of getting into your bones, and your head. It teases you. You hit a good shot, then another one, then a third. You’ve finally broken through, right? Wrong. Read on.

“I have absolutely, positively had it with this (blank) game. I retired at a young age to enjoy the remainder of my life, not to destroy it. Today, I absolutely, positively am hanging up my golf clubs and quitting the game. What’s that? Tomorrow? That’s another story.” — Ken Ruggiero

This season, I came out of the box strong. For six weeks, I was playing the game as well as I ever had in my life. I never paused to speculate why I was playing so well. Much like a surfer, I simply rode the grand master wave.

Trying to determine why you are playing well WHEN you are playing well is futile in any case. Been there, done that. There are simply too many variables to success in this sport to choose which correct actions are giving you success.

Maybe it was the address that led to my superior skill set during the first month and a half of this season. Then again, I’ve always addressed the ball the same way, so why would any one, singular ingredient in my stance, posture, or ball position make a difference?

I did notice that during my “run” for the roses, I had balance and power. I felt like I was hitting the ball with my entirety, although the pull of the left arm was most prominent. Also, I was very conscious that my follow through during this time led me to a posed finish, and that’s a clear-cut indicator.

Then, in mid-June, the fun stopped.

“Golf is a game that creates emotions that sometimes cannot be sustained with the club still in one hand.” — Bobby Jones

Have I ever thrown a golf club? Not for many, many seasons, but I have tossed a few sticks during my younger days. Boorish behavior, no doubt. I seldom, if ever, even curse anymore. I don’t like a foul mouth. It reveals a lack of constraint and, to a lesser degree, a lack of character. As I’ve matured, I’ve learned that golf will throw you curve balls until you learn how to hit a curve. Then, it throws you fastballs.

The secret to surviving the ebb and flow of the game lies in going along for the ride, enjoying the experience of the game, taking it as it comes, and all that other psycho-hogwash.

“Golf is like faith; it is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” — Arnold Haultain

I have faith in God. Really, I do. As the years have passed, I’ve grown closer to what has been revealed to me as Truth. And I don’t believe that God wanted for us to know and experience the game of golf. I doubt that the Garden of Eden had any golf courses. Baseball diamonds maybe, even tennis courts, but not golf courses. We were only exposed to golf as a result of Adam and Eve’s apple eating ways.

“Golf is not a funeral, though both can be very sad affairs.” — Bernard Darwin

And so I went from playing well to agonizing in acute anxiety. Don’t believe me? Ask anyone in my group. I’ve plunged to the depths. I question how I hold the club, swing the club, and I am beginning to question life itself. Why were we born? What’s the purpose of life? Playing golf badly can cause you to question everything.

Gardner Dickenson, a tour professional, once said, “Some say life is a lot like golf but don’t believe it. Golf is a lot more complicated.”

Who could argue. You feel sick, you go to the doctor. Hungry? You eat. Get behind in the bills? Get a job. Start slicing your putts? You’re paralyzed. Nowhere to go. Panic sets in. You’re done, finished, kaput.

“Golf is a compromise between what your ego wants you to do, what experience tells you to do, and what your nerves let you do.” — Bruce Crampton

Ah, ego. I have learned that most every problem in life begins with ego. In golf, a player will convince himself that the very value of his existence is measured solely by how well he plays the game that day.

How do I know this? I’m that player. I author a golf column, this one as a matter of fact. I instruct the game to countless players every year. If I can’t play the game and practice what I preach, what am I doing anyway? Shouldn’t I be good, very good, all the time? Slump? I don’t think so.

“Golf, and sometimes life, is full of new beginnings.” — James Dodson

I took some time off. A day. Considered finding a new hobby. After all, golf isn’t the only thing I can do. Mowed the lawn. Trimmed the hedges. Washed the car. Then, I rested some. Picked up a magazine. Thumbed through the pages. Looked at the pictures.

Went into the garage. Grabbed a few whiffle-golf balls and a seven iron. Went round back. Killed an hour. Hit it hard and straight. A slight draw indicative of a pure hit. Found the slot. Follow-through was high and posed. Hmm, maybe I’ve found the problem. Can’t wait till tomorrow.

Until next week, keep it in the fairway.