The second shot: driving the point home
THE SECOND SHOT: The other day I was playing golf, with a student, who produced a three wood to play the second shot on a par five. I had to laugh, because I have always questioned this kind of strategy – to the point I wrote about it in my latest book, Mystic Links. So, rather than explain my disdain for such thinking, I thought I would just share with you the excerpt from the book...
Standing on the 18th tee, Mark found himself at six under par as he took his driver from his bag one more time.
He swung, and cracked a beautiful drive straight down the middle of the par five’s fairway. Upon reaching his ball he took out his three wood and readied to hit.
Scotty shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to ask. Whadya’ doin’?”
“I’m going to hit my second shot,” came the obvious reply.
“But why’ve ya got yer three wood out?” Scotty wanted to know.
“Well, it’s a par five. I thought maybe if I could get home in two,” Mark explained.
“You’re 250 yards out,” Scotty said, getting exasperated – even for him. “I know,” said Mark. “Have ye ever, in yer ’tire life, hit yer three wood 250 yards off the fairway?” Mark thought for a moment. “Well, no, but I thought, with the way I’m playing today…”
“Mark, you’ve played a lovely round to here, but be honest. Have you hit a single shot today that you’ve never hit before?”
“I’ve never hit so many good shots in one round,” Mark replied.
“Are yer ears blocked from the flight over, ’cause that’s not what I’m askin’ ye. I asked ya if you’ve done anythin’ today – any single thin’ – you’ve never done before?” Scotty demanded in earnest.
replied:
“There’s been nobody here for years. The hotel shut down long ago.”
Mark dropped his bag of clubs on the ground.
“I don’t believe it! I knew I’d been burned. I paid a lot of money for this trip and they promised me the experience of a lifetime. And then they have the nerve to make me promise not to tell anyone about it – I’ll tell people what a joke this resort is!”
With a sigh from Scotty, “Yer memory’s not very good, is it?” “But I – “Mark then stopped suddenly as he realised what had just happened to him – the incredible experience of, by far, the best round of golf in his hurried, harried, hapless life.
Just as suddenly, the approaching sounds of a helicopter could be heard in the distance. The chopper’s blades created an immense gust of wind as it landed, and Mark, wistfully, realised it was there for one reason: to take him home. He picked up his clubs, placed them on his shoulder, and then extended his hand to the old caretaker.
He had to yell over the noise of the chopper: “I get it now! I am so used to being disappointed I just, well, never mind.”
“Mark laddy, you’re not used to disappointment. You are conditioned to expect disappointment. Don’t expect disappointment, and don’t you ever, ever…”
Mark interrupted: “…try to hit a three wood two-fifty off the deck; I know, I know!”