English Major Golfer

I was feeling great.

My most recent rounds were solid and my ball striking was about the best it has been all year. This was right before Nationals this past October. And importantly, my body felt good. My back seemed to be in good shape; the elbow was of little consequence during play. Everything was trending just how I wanted leading into 3 days of tournament rounds.

This would be my third Hilton Head Nationals and Michelle and I had learned a thing or two about 3-day tournament travel – we arrived on Wednesday to give one full day of rest Thursday, before showtime Friday morning. Wednesday, after arriving and unpacking in the apartment, I went up to the course for a putting practice – low stress – get the speeds; maybe a little chipping.

Thursday, I decided to spend a little time on the range. Nothing strenuous, hit each club a few times and keep the good “feels” going. Right away, the contact was pure. I felt in the groove. Then I thought: let’s shoot some video of my swing. And I did – 5 iron through Driver. And I was hitting really well on each take. The confidence for the weekend ahead grew. 

Later that evening resting on the couch, I decided to review the videos. “Man, my swing must look so different than in the past…” I thought as I began to scan frame by frame of my body movement.

As I watched each video my stomach sank…”my swing doesn’t look ANY different!” I was horrified. How could this be? SO MUCH work and right there on screen, my bad habits were on full 4K 60 fps…🤬.

I felt stunned and deflated. I felt confused. My shots on the range were good! The ball flight was on target. I felt in command of my shots – how am I still doing all the things I have been trying to change?

The results of my bad habits were on full display Friday morning as I sprayed the ball off the tee in every direction. I missed most greens. Chipping was a disaster and only my putting kept me from completely losing my mind. 

I didn’t get it. This game is such a mystery. Why practice? Why video my swing? Why am I even doing this? As I have written about in a past post, this was a miserable experience – all weekend.

On the morning of the third day, Sunday, my tournament die had been cast. I was in the consolation bracket of “no chance.” I was paired up with three other poor souls who shared my misery and hoped to have a “keep my dignity” round. I teed off the first hole and found the fairway on the #1 HCP hole. (Look it up: #17 at Palmetto Dunes Arthur Hills). My approach landed left of the pin and proceeded to track to the hole – nearly an Eagle. I made a pretty straight uphill 6-footer to card a first hole Birdie.

😳WHAT? As I walked back to my cart, a voice in my head said: “the only difference is believing.” 

And while I would love to have the storyline arch into the amazing third-day comeback…it did not. I proceeded to blast 2 out of bounds on the next hole and card a triple – minus one, plus three, +2 after two holes. My day didn’t really improve from there.

Yet the phrase “the only difference is believing” stuck.

Remember the scene in Kung Fu Panda where Po’s Dad, the goose, tells him the “secret ingredient” to his noodle soup? (If you haven’t watched Kung Fu Panda, we may not ever be friends 😂 – one of my favorites). 

Anyway, Po’s Dad leads up to the big reveal of the ingredient: “The secret ingredient is…is…NOTHING!” 

My reaction to my videos was like Po’s reaction to his Dad? WHAT? How could it be? Of course in the movie, the Dragon Warrior realized HE is the secret ingredient and goes on to become “legendarily awesomeness!” He comes to accept that his “King Fu” isn’t as good as The Five’s, yet he believes that he is “awesome” and moves past his doubt.

We have experienced this when we go through a round and everything goes our way. We are hitting the most amazing shots. And ironically, secretly, deep in our minds we say to ourselves: “I can’t believe it.” We are astonished by the results of our efforts and we have the “round of our lives!”

It is in those moments, that we need to record-remember what we are capable of. If we can do it once, we can do it again. And the margin between what we are capable of and actual executing of that effort is simply believing we can. Focusing our minds on the outcome we desire — NOT on whether we can or can’t. 

So here’s where the story does arch: Fast forward to now, April of 2025 and my season is off to the best start in the last 4 years. I feel good physically and I know — I BELIEVE my first win of the season is right around the corner. The sentiment “the only difference is believing” has stuck with me. In my tournament rounds, I am reminding myself of my belief in me.

My swing is about the same as it was last October. If I video it, I will probably see my same-chronic flaws — and so what? I believe I am playing better. I believe I can win and it is only a matter of time.

The only difference is believing.