I am a 56-year-old man. Larger than most. Over six feet tall, weighing over 200 pounds.
A few weeks ago, a friend at a pickleball game talked about attending golf lessons. Despite never having taken a formal lesson myself or having seen my friend golf, I asked him for the name of his instructor.
He shared his instructor’s name and phone number, which I used to set up a lesson.
When I got to my lesson, I learned my instructor was a 70ish-year-old woman about a foot shorter and at least 80 pounds lighter.
I have a 12 handicap. That means I am at the top end of the scale, certainly within the top quarter of all golfers (it is a little hard to get good statistics because bad golfers don’t bother to get a handicap).
Yet I allowed her to alter my swing completely.
Why?
Because I want to be a better golfer, I want to challenge myself more on the course. It is entirely selfish. My friends don’t care if I improve. I never golf in contests, and I don’t ever golf for money.
You might wonder if my new swing works better than the old one. The answer is most of the time. When I connect well, the ball goes further and straighter. So, the hope is that it will help, but for now, my golfing fate is in the hands of a stranger with whom I have nothing in common. I haven’t even seen her hit a golf ball (or even swing a club).
She asked me many questions about why I swung the way I did. Often, I would explain, and she would push back. Her response to my answers built my confidence that she knew what she was doing.
I told her once at a club fitting that the salesperson told me I didn’t really have a slice, but instead, it was more of a slight fade. He said, “You should stop trying to fix it.” I did, and I accepted my 10-yard fade. She asked, “So you listened to him and just gave up? Why would you do that?”
It occurred to me that she was right. I don’t do that in other areas of my life.
When I pointed out that the swing she was having me use with my irons was similar to the swing I tried using with some success with my driver, she asked why I hadn’t applied that logic to my iron shots. When I told her I was unsure, she said, “Huh.” I felt convicted.
Her questions and advice made me question myself and consider why I was so willing to settle in this area of my life despite never having this reaction in any other area of my life.
So, I let a stranger change me. It is good to get out, talk to new people, and get a new perspective on life. I didn’t mindlessly listen to the new stranger. I tried her advice out in a safe environment. I considered her advice logically by comparing it to sound physics.
I like to think of myself as having an ability to discern things. I don’t believe everything any old Uber driver or store clerk tells me.
Let’s face it: I’m vain and want to score in the 70s more often when I golf. But I am humble enough to realize I don’t have all the answers. I can learn from somebody with whom I have very little in common.
