Nexo Championship

If Denmark was a tale about commitment, attitude and why staying the course is a good thing to do, then The Nexo Championship in Aberdeen was quite the opposite. The intriguing thing, to me anyway, is how one isn’t always better than the other. That might annoy some and you’ll disagree, and it probably points to a part of my character that is flawed, but I do hold the opinion that there are times when to quit isn’t to just throw the (wet) towel in, it’s an opportunity to mark a point in time where you decided to make a meaningful change.

I have struggled with my ball striking since retuning from my summer break, particularly my iron play, and have become increasingly lost and even concerned about how to resolve it. In Aberdeen this became apparent as early as my opening hole on Thursday where I chunked my approach from fifty yards, leaving myself a difficult up and down to save par. I managed a couple of steady iron shots on holes two and three, but then once I turned back into the wind on hole five and faced a 7 iron from 150 yards, I flared one right into a hollow and followed that with another on the sixth hole which led to a double bogey. Truthfully I had no idea what I was doing with my irons, and after fatting another shot on hole 8 which led to another double bogey, I decided to call it a day.

I would say self preservation was the main reason for walking in, as there was nothing on the horizon but bad shots and bogeys, which I concluded would only lead to a confidence destroying outcome. I was beyond frustration. For me, anger most often comes when I’m close to playing well and hit poor shots, it doesn’t arrive when I’m feeling lost with my game. Resignation tends to fill the ether in these moments and all you can do is laugh, and/or walk in.

It took all of one mile driving back to our accommodation for me to say to Jen I’m not going to continue playing golf under these circumstances, whereby I continue to regularly encounter the feeling of being lost with my iron play. The ownership I have taken over my game during the last twelve months has had some positives but in moments like this, it becomes very clear that it’s a lonely island that eventually takes its toll. “A coach is required”, I say. Jen agrees.

For someone who values coaches as highly as I do, it’s remarkable I’ve spent so much time without one. That is probably the ultimate reflection of my personality; highly individualistic, stubborn, and too clever by half. Coaches are the single most important people an athlete can spend time with. They have the knowledge we lack and perspective and experience that is essential in helping us overcome hurdles. The hard part is finding the ones that give you what you need and listening to them, especially once you reach the point in a career that I’m at, whereby you’ve already seen a lot and come with pre-packaged ideas about what you think will and won’t work.

Marrying up taking ownership alongside the acquisition of new information is really difficult but in my experience vital to improving performance. Some are too reliant on their coaches, and/or parents, while others become too much like I have become where you take everything on. There is an abyss on both sides of these spectrums waiting to swallow you up.