War Stories: Golf Lessons From Melbourne

Photo by Allan Nygren on Unsplash

I started playing golf back in 1996, while I was on a long term consulting assignment in Melbourne, Australia. I needed something to do on the weekends by myself, so I took a few lessons (not enough) and then started to play a local course a couple of times a month. 

I remember one Saturday, I went out to the course with my friend and (former) colleague, Ben, and, as is normal, we were asked to pair up with another couple of golfers, who we didn’t know, so that we’d form a  group of four. The gentlemen we were paired with must have been in their sixties, at least, and we all walked out onto the course together, looking forward to a fun 18 holes.

Now, I know golf doesn’t need to be competitive, but sometimes, it’s hard to suppress those urges. And so, our (Ben and my) expectation, even though we never said it to each other, was that this was going to be a cakewalk. I mean, these men were at least 4 decades older than us, literally half our size and walked at about half our speed. So, clearly, we were going to show these men up with our strength and our drive. (Yes, I know what you’re thinking, but we were basically kids. Call it the arrogance of youth.)

Well, we were walloped.  

Because that morning, these men who were old enough to be our grandfathers, taught us a lesson we wouldn’t soon forget. And that was (cliche alert) that you can’t judge a book by its cover.

While we might have had strength, they had control. We might have had the emotion, they had the intelligence. We kept thinking about the end result, they kept thinking about consistent execution.

And, in the end, they beat us soundly. (Again, yes I know golf is a game against yourself, it’s not a competition, blah, blah, blah, but try telling that to a couple of kids in their twenties with their egos on the line.)  

I don’t remember the score (thankfully) but I do remember sitting with Ben afterwards talking about how we had our asses handed to us. And, frankly, marveling at how amazing their game was. 

The lessons were pretty clear and numerous. 

Consistency matters. Intelligence matters. Discipline matters. Knowing your strengths matters. And executing to those strengths matters even more. 

And that preconceived notions don’t help. Assumptions don’t help. (Unintentional) arrogance certainly doesn’t help.

It was quite a lesson that day. I know this story doesn’t suggest it, but I’ve always respected my elders, always appreciated what they could teach us. But clearly, I forgot that back on that sunny Saturday morning back in 1996. Rest assured, though, it was brought back home to me, with an exclamation mark!

The thing is, everyone has something they can teach us. We just need to keep an open mind and be ready to learn from them.