A Hollow Medal
I’m currently a 4 handicap, which means I’ll often have the honour when I step onto the first tee on a Sunday — and just as often, I’ll spend the next four hours quietly letting my playing partners down on the way to an 82.
A few years ago, I had the yips. I couldn’t putt the ball in the hole from a foot. I was living in Melbourne and it crossed my mind more than once that I could try putting left handed. I’d gone from being able to shoot in the 70’s quite regularly to struggling to break 100. My handicap went from 5 to 12 and would have gone higher if they didn’t set limits on these things.
One day, something changed and I got over my yips. I was liberated. I could go out to play again, the thoughts of putting left handed or maybe even giving up the game entirely dissipated.
Then we had our monthly medal — back markers, therefore with the world handicap system I got some extra shots. When I walked into the pro shop that sunny Sunday morning at Spring Valley Golf Club on the Melbourne sandbelt and signed into the computer before the game I saw the system had given me 14 shots. Respectable handicap but about 9 or 10 shots higher than I was used to.
I played ok that day, shot an 81 gross and looked at the leaderboard - nett 67, first place. I’d never won a medal before but this felt pretty hollow. I was a recovering yipster and just happened to get things back on track before the medal. In the weeks and months that followed I got my handicap back down to about 5 or 6 and reached my lowest ever this summer — 3.6 (I’m now very much on the way back up).
I don’t know where that medal is.
Golf is a beautiful game in that a scratch golfer can go out and play against a 20 handicapper and have a genuine match. If the 20 handicap wins, it’s celebrated as a genuine victory. In most sports this isn’t possible. If the All Blacks play against Namibia in rugby, the Namibians don’t get a couple of extra players.
The World Handicap System
The handicap system only works because most people are honest about it — and when it does work, it’s one of the most elegant things in sport.
But it’s also a flawed system (so is capitalism but it seems to be better than the alternatives). It does its best to gauge a player’s level at a given moment in time but it’s never going to be fully accurate — there could be a difference of 10 or even 20 shots in your game week to week.
Handicaps “fluctuate too much”, people say. I’m not a particularly confrontational person so I often just smile and nod — but in my head I think: well if you think the handicap system fluctuates too much, you should see my golf game.
You’re a F**cking Child
I was scrolling on social media a few days ago, which I do more than I’d like to admit, and came across a discussion that you’ve probably had among your Sunday fourball or in your golf WhatsApp groups.
It was a podcast clip where 2 lads were discussing the idea of people holding back on their handicaps so they can win their Captains Prize or other big club tournaments. For us in Ireland, the Captains Prize is arguably the biggest tournament of the year for the average golfer.
There was some back and forth between the 2 lads but the anger grew between them as they got deeper into the point. “You’re a fucking child if you’re someone who minds their handicap and struts up to collect your first prize on Captains Day having saved your handicap all year” is where they landed.
They said if you’re the type of person who does this then you have a deep need for external validation.
Sandbaggers, they’re called in the States, I believe. To be more blunt we could just call them cheaters.
I get it. I’ve actually been on the golf course with guys before where they’ve talked openly about how they’re trying to get shots back ahead of the Captains Prize in a few weeks. In the US an equivalent to the Captains Prize would likely be a big member guest event.
In my eyes this is subtle and deliberate cheating. However…
One of the reasons I fell in love with golf was because it’s you versus you.
In golf, I know my best ever score. That 69 I shot at St.Andrews Beach Golf Club in June 2023 will live in my head forever. I remember the feeling of my hands shaking as I drew my putter back on that final putt. I’ve relived that round more than once in my mind and I could make a good guess that as you read this you’re probably thinking of your best score. You probably know what that number is for you. You probably remember most, if not all the shots from that round. You should be proud of that score, whatever it is.
I genuinely don’t remember if I won the competition that day in June 2023 or not but I remember what club I hit on the par 3 16th hole.
The Captains Prize
During the summer I walked off the 18th genuinely thinking I had a chance of winning of Captains Prize, but it turned out five other players beat me — fair and square as far as I was concerned. I was presented with a nice t-shirt for coming 6th. I was genuinely happy for the guy who won. He was a higher handicapper and seemed like a gentleman. He nervously got through his speech while his wife proudly looked on. That’s a moment he’ll remember for the rest of his life.
If I had won that day I would have been happy, I would have nervously got through my speech while my wife and parents looked on. But what I was more interested in was my gross score. I’d shot rounds of +8 and +5 off the back markers. Not quite PGA Tour level, but I was proud of it. That’s the only category that ever matters to me, no matter what your handicap. The system is great because it gives us all something to play for — but when all is said and done, all I care about is that little number on the bottom right of the scorecard. What did I shoot today?
It’s you versus you.
Caught Cheating
There’s a guy I know who’s a brilliant golfer. But he’s been caught cheating multiple times and was exiled from his club. Any time I see him on the street, it’s the first thing that crosses my mind. His integrity is compromised for life. He may have won lots of competitions over the years, but he lost far more than that.
They say golf is a microcosm of life. I like that.
How you carry yourself on the course is a reflection of how you carry yourself everywhere else.
Show up, give everything you have, do it fairly, and accept the outcome with grace.
Don’t worry about what everyone else is doing.
Focus on how you carry yourself — and if you do that well, you’re the winner.
Great stuff as always mate! If ever your in the hunter valley, I’d love to get a round in. 💪🏼