It was 23°C and sunny when we teed off in the early afternoon. After 4 years of golfing somewhat regularly, I should be better than I was on the disastrous first 3 holes. Even with an adaptive glove, that compensated for my reduced grip, I should not be scoring 8s and 9’s.
Should is an interesting word, that plays in my mind often. It is a comparative word; I should be hitting better in comparison to what? More often than not the should I am measuring against has me not currently doing something well enough.
As was the case on the first 3 holes. A quick calculation, in my head, and I realized hitting as I was, there was no chance I would reach my secret goal. So I surrendered, and accepted, that today was not the day. I relaxed and just played the game. My swing became smoother, my ball went further, and my score on the next several holes greatly improved. I stopped comparing myself, negatively to my ‘shadow partner’ named, Should, who I can never quite measure up to.
As we turned to the back nine, the sky clouded over, the temperature dropped and I did another quick calculation, in my head, and Should joined our foursome again. If I kept playing as I had on the last several holes, it should be enough to make up for my disastrous start, and I should be able to reach my secret goal. Should, sucks the joy out of the game, and once it joins the foursome, as the annoying fifth, present only in my head, my game falls apart again.
My ‘shadow partner’ Should has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. What makes Should so dangerous is that it is a subjective comparator, with no data or evidence to be compared to. So, you can’t win against should. The should in my head, I should quit, because I will not finish it if it gets hard. I should have a better job because there is always more. I should be able to do a chin-up, having only one hand that works is no excuse. I should be happy being single, because I may never find a partner. I should be able to reach my secret golf score goal.
As we teed off on 15, Should in tow, the sky opened up and it started to rain. I was soaked, and I was cold but I Should keep playing, because my partner is a trooper, and will play in just about any weather. Between the weather and Should, my game truly fell apart. As I teed off on 17, the hail came, oh f#@* it, I said to myself, as I banished should. I hit a beautiful tee shot as I was pelted with hail. As I scrambled back into the cart, killing myself laughing, I looked down the fairway and saw nothing but white, the hail made it look like a freak snowstorm had hit the fairway and the hail was not stopping. I turned to my friend and said, I’m calling it, I’m done, I don’t even care to try to find my ball in the hail.
We had two holes left, should I have toughed it out? Should I have tried to find my ball? Should I have waited it out until the hail passed? Should has been a powerful, shadow partner for far too long in my life. Nothing good comes from allowing Should, to influence my choices. I was cold, I was soaked and once I surrendered to the hail, I had fun. My leaving the game at 17 was the right decision for me, as was leaving Should on the fairway, with my ball in the hail. I have a new perspective, Should will no longer be allowed to join my foursome, on or off the course, and I will break 110 this year!
