Changing Your Grip

PGA Tour hopeful John Raser pays attention

The small act of paying attention can take you a long way.

– Keanu Reeves

It might seem as though I haven’t been paying attention to this blog.  Months have gone by and I haven’t posted at all.  What’s my problem?

It hasn’t been for lack of attention. I’ve been thinking about this blog all the time. But  I’ve been paying attention to the wrong things.

First of all, I’m frustrated by the theme’s lack of options and other tech matters. I want to convert the theme (the platform, the literal layout and function, not what I’m writing about) to something with much more ability to be customized.

But I can’t seem to get that done – I need tech help. So I let the tech issues get in the way of actually working and writing it. I let my attention swerve from my original purpose — to build content for an eventual book. How silly. So for now, I’m going to keep going until I can get the tech problems worked out.

And my last post brought unwanted attention to the fact that I’m actually writing this blog at all.  It caused a small blip in my family. “Someone” wasn’t happy about it. I’m not writing anything that could be construed as slander but I am telling stories. I’m trying to be as truthful and authentic as I can.

As part of a writer’s life, it’s a fact that you’re going to ruffle feathers — if not much worse — when you write about your personal stories and they include people you know. Especially your family.

My sister gave me a t-shirt that says: Be Careful, Or You’ll End Up In My Novel. So very true.

So anyway — I stopped writing and got worried for a while. But I’m over it.

The point is, my attention got sidetracked, and that can disrupt the positive effects of paying attention in life.

I try to pay attention to every single day. To large and small things. The feel of the weather when I’m outdoors. The sounds of the day — insects whirring with the heat, the pound of footsteps as a runner comes up the sidewalk; a train whistle as the the one train that goes through town on Thursdays passes. Church bells. Paying attention grounds me. It keeps me in the present.

I listen and pay attention to what people are saying to me – the tone of voice, their body language; the quick smile in their eyes in a brief exchange. I read and pay attention to what’s happening in my own industry or in a client’s. I pay attention to what’s going on as I’m driving. I pay attention to my dog when his playfulness turns to urgency — and he needs to get outside. (Because it never pays to ignore an urgent dog.)

I see so many people who aren’t paying attention — and in the end, it’s going to negatively impact their day or relationships or their lives. They’ll miss so much. The day is loaded with tiny miracles waiting to be noticed, waiting to be paid attention.

So what does this have to do with golf, you may well ask.

I decided to ask a couple of my “golf guys” on social media.  Both of them are aiming to get on the TOUR, so they know a lot about what it means to pay attention to their lives and goals.

I’ve written about Phil Bundy before.  Here’s what he had to say:

“For me, paying attention – or being reflective – is important in golf as it is in life. After each time you hit a shot or finish a round, you have the opportunity to calmly reflect and process feedback mentally to improve future performance.”

I love that Phil equates paying attention to being reflective. When you give your attention to something, it often leads to more thought on that particular thing. Thought  can stir curiosity to learn more about it. Learning leads to focus. Where might focus lead?

By the way, Phil has a wonderful blog. You can find it here.

John Raser is a 27 year old Professional Golfer and entrepreneur from Orlando, Florida. He blogs/vlogs about his road to the PGA Tour.  He’s younger than my own boys but one of the smartest, savviest young golfers I’ve seen on social media (Twitter, Facebook, Flickr). He gave me his answer via Facebook:

“Paying attention” — In golf you’ve got to be very detail oriented. I think all good players subconsciously pick up little swing nuances from observing other great players. It might be the way a guy walks into a shot, or his waggle, or even more technical swing positions. Being detailed oriented and paying attention also encompasses the way you walk and carry yourself on the golf course in competition. It’s the way you think. It’s your inner self-talk. It also means being mindful of all outside variables such as wind, grain, lie, and the slope of the terrain. Be observant. Take it all in and process it.

In business it is important to pay attention to what your peers and competitors are doing. Stay up on current trends in your industry or niche. See what’s working and what’s not. Then after finding what works, be creative and find a way to do it better than anyone else. Paying attention to other people’s ideas and giving them the same consideration you would give your own is big too. All real innovation comes from paying attention to your competitors, consumers, and conscience.

Wow.

I also asked one of my favorite golf bloggers, The Armchair Golfer, to comment about paying attention, and he did. But in looking it up on my email, I think I accidentally deleted it. Because I was not paying enough attention to what I clicked on, probably.

I do remember that Neil talked about how important it was to him to pay real attention to his family , especially to his kids.

I remember that because I couldn’t agree more with him.

If you’ve reached the end of this post, well done. You’ve paid attention for over 1,000 words. And that’s a real accomplishment in a world that doesn’t want to read more than 300-500 words at a time.

I predict you’ll go far. And so does Keanu Reeves.

Photo coutesy of John Raser

2010 at the Masters – photo by Ryan Ballangee @waggleroom

My second visit to the Masters was more of a brush-by.  But it became a family legend.

By 1978, TJ was climbing his way up the money list and showing an impressive flair for performing in majors. We were not yet out of our 20’s, but now comfortable with Tour Life and traveling.

[I just had to do a little figuring. I think I said in my last post that TJ played in the 1977 Masters. Wrong. ]

We were also one of the larger families on Tour. Matt was nearly 8 years old — now a veteran traveler, navigator and bell-captain. John was five and Graham — born prematurely the previous May — was 11 months old.  Each spring, when the Tour came back east, we’d go on the road with TJ for a month.

Augusta was our last stop that trip before the boys and I headed home back north.

TJ rented a house in Augusta for the Masters stay.  It was a pretty place on a nice side street and a welcome break from having to live in hotels with little boys. We traveled in a Lincoln Continental the size of the Titanic. The trunk was enormous – packed to the brim for a mobile household.

Greensboro always preceded the Masters. I just remember Greensboro, NC being cold – it was a relief to get to the warmth of Georgia in the springtime. And the house had a small yard with a brick patio.  Perfect for  boys cooped up too long and a baby in a stroller.

There wasn’t any point to the boys and me staying for the tournament. Back then, child care was dicey on the Tour — the Tour Wives of today have it so much more together — and I would have wanted to be at the course following TJ. The plan was that I would leave with the boys and one of our very good friends – Graham’s godfather — would arrive after me, then TJ’s parents, and his new sponsor &his wife, to stay at the rented house.

And the Masters — I knew — was no place for kids. TJ needed to concentrate, and the week’s guests from home would be in no mood for the restrictions of children’s bedtimes or meal schedules or playtime.

TJ loved having us with him on Tour.  It was always hard to say goodbye. I had the house and kids to keep me busy at home. He had his game, and the courses, and one hotel room after another — home was on the other end of the hotel telephone line.

There was no texting, no web cams, no cell phones to keep in constant touch. It was hard, and it was  lonely.

But it was the Masters!

He was there again! Another invitation, more status, more validation as a player. He was becoming a media darling. He was gaining the attention of the CBS television talent.  He’d been taken under the wing of one of golf’s great champions. He was excited.

He was nervous, of course.

And so was I. But not about the Masters.

Back in February, he’d taken a week off from the Tour — I think he skipped Hawaii — and came home. He hadn’t been home since a couple of days after Christmas. February in western New York State is bitter with cold and often knee-deep in snow.

It got hip-deep in snow that week with a storm. Normally I did the shoveling, but TJ took over. I fixed us lunch, nursed the baby and put Graham down for a nap.  The boys were at  school.

“A nap sounds good,” TJ said. “I’m freezing.”… Why didn’t I join him? he asked…

I knew that smile. And with the wind whipping snow against our bedroom window, I did.

Now it was April. Now I was 10 weeks pregnant. And I hadn’t told him yet.

Because — when was there ever a good time, I wondered? On the phone? No. During tournaments on the road? No.

The night before we left, I couldn’t keep it from him a minute longer. Yeah, I know it was Masters time.

Call it hormones, or sadness at another stretch of weeks apart, feeling alone –  I broke into tears and I told him.

To his great credit , he laughed with relief. He had no idea why I was crying. I might have said I was sick. (I was fairly nauseous.) I might have had bad news about  family — or whatever.  It could have been worse.

But the news was that we were going to have 4 children. The youngest would end up 15 months apart — Colin was a preemie too. TJ had his own entourage.  Next to Johnny Miller, TJ was the Big Daddy on Tour.

I left with the boys (all “4″ of them) feeling better. We managed traveling with three children, we could do it with four. Although probably less often.

The next night, Graham’s godfather sat with TJ watching TV in the rented house. He was concerned. TJ sat in silence, staring like a zombie. The friend thought it was anxiety about TJ’s parents and sponsor arriving — pressure.

It became a family legend – a story repeated many times by the godfather — of how, just before TJ’s second Masters, he went into shell shock over becoming the father of four.

The golf nuts just couldn’t believe I’d pick that time.

The Masters!! Of all tournaments!! — But that’s life.

I think TJ made the cut that year.

Pearls of Tour Wisdom

Changing Your Grip started out a few years ago as a presentation I gave. Eventually, I hope it will become a book.

But why wait for that? The lessons contained in the presentation are valuable at any time.

In addition to my career as a writer, I also speak to groups on subjects like fear and risk, humor in the workplace (I’ll have to resurrect that one and re-read it — it’s not that funny around my office lately), communications skills and more. I gave this presentation to a district meeting of businesswomen.

It’s about lessons I learned and the skills they gave me to succeed and lead. So you see, even if you don’t play golf — even if you hate golf or think it’s boring — and I would’ve, had I not been personally involved with it — there are simple parallels anyone can relate to.

[Don't worry -- what I have to say won't always be serious or teacher-ish. I have a lot of stories from our days with the Tour. All kinds. Stick around.]

For now, I thought I’d give you the first five “pearls” and a little  of what they’re about. Then later on, I’ll talk more about each one in detail.  I hope eventually we can get some players’ takes on their own “pearls.” The nice thing about a blog is that you can explore as many as you want.

Okay? Here goes:

1. Sometimes you need to change your grip.

Often, pros change something about their game — a fundamental, like their grip or swing — because what they’ve been using isn’t working for them. Even Tiger did it. After all, they’re out there to win. To make a living. To be champions.

Changing something within is a monumental task – but one worth doing. Because — what if you could get a different result? One you really wanted?

It’s about changing a belief, self-talk, a behavior, a reaction — whatever keeps you from “hitting the shot where you want it to go.”

2. Play It One Shot At a Time.

If there is any principle or maxim in life that has absolutely worked for me, it’s taking it one step at a time, one day at a time.

People used to ask me: “How do you do it ?” — living alone with our (then) four boys (we had 4 under 8 years old on Tour) for about 9 months of the year, coping with crises, the ups and downs of competitive golf… I used to say I lived one day at a time, sometimes one hour at a time. I was very young — still in my 20’s — but I instinctively knew that’s what worked.

How many of us are really living in the present? When a pro starts letting his previous shots get to him, he loses focus on what he needs to do next. As they say on the Tour, the wheels start to come off.

3. Is that shot possible from here?

Pros can find themselves facing terrible luck. Or maybe they hit terrible shots. Just a couple of weeks ago, during the FBR in Scottsdale, I saw Anthony Kim trying to figure out what to do when his golf ball stuck in a big cactus. 

The much loved Bob Rosburg followed guys on the course during ABC golf broadcasts. He was famous for his assessments of disaster when a shot was “challenging.”  He’s got no shot from here, he’d say. It’s impossible.

Smart players assess the situation: What are the obstacles to making a good shot? What’s blocking their path to get back on track? They have to practice every conceivable shot. Be ready for anything. That way, no shot is impossible.

This is about not letting other people decide what you can and can’t accomplish.

4. Know when to lay up. Know when to go for the stick.

Pros will often “lay up.” This technique enables them to better place their approach shots to the green in a more advantageous position — avoiding trouble, like a big water hazard or nasty sand bunkers. Or getting into perfect position to land nearest the pin with a good break, and have a chance to birdie.

Sometimes it’s smart to recognize trouble ahead, play it safe and stay away from danger. But sometimes, you have to take the risk and just go for it.  I loved the movie Tin Cup. It showed — among other things — that you have to have balance in anything.  Going for it every time is a recipe for… exhaustion and stupid moves.

5. Let It Happen.

Trying to force something often causes problems.

This is closely related to one shot at a time… Don’t project ahead. Don’t get caught up in the “what ifs.”  You will drain your energy from what you need to do in this moment and put all your thought and attention into something that hasn’t happened yet — and probably won’t, unless you subconsciously make it happen.

The greatest players are those who can see each shot as a new opportunity, and the last shot as a lesson.

So — there ’s a start.

If you have your own pearl — golf or otherwise, I’d love to hear it.  That’s one of the things I loved most about being around golf and Tour players — the rich wisdom that was often buried in humor and slang. It was never, ever boring.

And it works for all of us.