“The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. What is called resignation is confirmed desperation. From the desperate city you go into the desperate country, and you have to console yourself with the bravery of minks and muskrats. A stereotyped but unconscious despair is concealed even under what are the games and amusements of mankind. There is no play for them, for this comes after work. But it is a characteristic of wisdom not to do desperate things…” – Henry David Thoreau, Civil Disobedience and Other Essays
I hate guilty golf. I find I play terribly if I know the wife is less than thrilled that I’m playing on a particular day, and I certainly have less fun. To be clear, my better half is uber-supportive of my golf hobby. Golf love affair, really. I’ve been engrossed in the game for well over a decade now. (That’s a much shorter time than others, I know.) The reward of a well-struck shot and the excitement of stringing them together to post a personal-best score continues to captivate my imagination and fuel my desire to play. The game is not my only passion though, and the competing loves of my life can make for a potentially tortured relationship with the game if I let it.
Competing Priorities
No matter how good I may potentially get at this game, I can assure you it won’t say “golfer” on my tombstone. It will, however, say husband and father. That’s where our first energies and focus must go: to the ones that depend on us. I know lots of husbands and lots of Dads. Sure, there are some deadbeats among us, but by and large I don’t know of a decent husband and father who doesn’t put their family first in all things. What’s more, we carry the weight of that responsibility each and every day, and many of us quietly fear that we aren’t doing enough. We can do more. We could be better. What are we getting wrong? What kind of memories will our sons or daughters have of their Dad? Unfortunately, “He was a good golfer,” probably won’t count for much with little Timmy when he’s all grown up.
Still, we need this game. That’s right, need. It’s not machismo or testosterone-fueled bravado to give voice to this simple truth: part of manhood is having a mountain to climb, an object to push against, a battle to fight. For many of us golf is that undertaking: a chance to strive, to improve, and maybe to conquer that former version of ourselves. Therein lies our lives of quiet desperation. The need to be husband & father, and the need to climb a mountain, are often at odds. One must almost always come at the expense of the other.
Sound overly dramatic? Maybe, but think about it. How many good golfers have you met who have said something to the effect of “I used to be really good, then I had kids.” Or, how many still really good golfers have you met, who have a wife that’s less than thrilled with how much time they’re spending on the course? I’m willing to bet the answer is quite a few. That’s a Dad’s golf dilemma: how to pursue a golf passion with the necessary time and intensity to get better, without doing it at the expense of family.
The Formula
It’s not easy. A pipe dream, no, but certainly a challenge. Step one in taking on this challenge is coming to grip with some realities. For starters, you’re not a professional, so stop pining for the time to practice like one. Nor should you. Step one “A” is keeping your priorities in order. I get that you love golf and want to get better. Me too. But, I don’t want it more than I want a happy wife and kids.
Here’s the good news: It doesn’t take marathon hands-bleeding range sessions to improve. Sure, reps count, and there’s certainly value in hitting a lot of balls. (If done correctly, that is.) It’s definitely easier to maintain your skills with a high volume of practice, but that’s not the only means available to get better. The trick is to find small windows to make small gains. Then, stack those small gains across all facets of your game.
Take a couple lessons and learn a few “go-to” drills that you can do at home, without a ball, and do them for 15 minutes a day when the kids are asleep. Dedicate a couple sessions a week to putting practice. Speed control is the most important thing to work on in putting, and you can do that in your carpeted hallway. Learn better course management skills, and shave strokes from your scores simply by cutting out the dumb mistakes we all make. Speed train with the Stack System or other device, and realize the tremendous impact distance can have on your game. Oh, and I’ve heard getting in better shape is a good idea too.
Where Dad & Golfer Meet
The great part about all these tools and tactics at your disposal is that your family can see you putting in the work. If you’ve done your job as the man of the house first, and your golf training second, what your kids will see is an example for them to follow. “How you do one thing is how you do everything,” is a message I’ve been preaching to my kids for years. Let your child see you striving to improve and climb that mountain. Work ethic, dedication, embracing process over result; these are all wonderful lessons you can and should impart to your kids. Seeing Dad do it himself is quite possibly the best way to teach that lesson. And let’s not forget, introducing your kids to the game is it’s own joy. We’ll save that one for another time, but suffice it to say, making golf a family endeavor is a great path to improving your own game along the way.
A Dad, husband and a golfer. Sometimes something has to give, and we know in our hearts which one it is. But know that there is a formula and a path to improving your game, even away from the range and the course. Watching Dad take on his own challenges might just be one of the best lessons you can pass on to your children, so get after it.