Sophomore Year, First Semester (Fall 2010) Part 1

I traveled down to school in late August, not really wanting to go back for my sophomore year.  I didn't know a whole lot of people, and honestly, Oklahoma Christian isn't the most exciting school to attend.  I have always had a passion for major universities.  In high school, I really wanted play golf at the University of Missouri (Mizzou), or a NCAA Division I school in the South.  I love the atmosphere of campuses with 25,000+ students, and the excitement everyone has on Saturdays!  I love attending those huge sporting events where all the students are pumped because the game is going to be broadcasted on ESPN that night!  I love tailgating, and the traditions that accompany game days!  I wasn't really excited about going back to Oklahoma where every day I finished dead last on our team, and the most exciting thing was when the cafeteria would have an uncharacteristically delicious, healthy meal.


I could remember all the times I walked into the dorm with my clubs freshman year, and people in the lobby would ask, "How did it go today, Kyle?"  I would respond, "Oh, not so well."  Then they would ask, "Well what did you shoot?"   I just replied with, "(ha) Not good", hoping they would get the hint.  Some people would get the hint, but others would say, "Well what did you shoot?  77?  78?  79?"  I never wanted to tell them, because the score was usually extremely bad.  It would have been embarrassing to say, "I shot a 87."  Then they would probably think, "Wow, why is Kyle playing golf here?  I could beat him."  Somehow I always found a way to get out of not telling them my score.


Anyway, I wasn't really excited for school because there was hardly ever any excitement.  I tried to keep a positive attitude telling myself, "This year I am going to play well and have a lot of fun!"  One thing that helped, was that one of my friends from Republic decided to attend Oklahoma Christian to play basketball.  I found out a week before school that he was actually in the same dorm as me, the same floor as me, and ended up being right across the hall.  This is one of those kids who can always bring a smile to your face.  I knew I would have a great friend, and we would have a lot of fun!  This made me more excited for the semester!


We had our first golf team meeting the first or second week of school, and I could immediately tell I was going to like the new coach!  He was really nice, and I liked a lot of his coaching strategies.  After the meeting was over, I was excited and motivated to play well!


I began practicing and working on my game every day.  I was ready to travel to the tournaments and prove that I could in fact play golf.  Our first tournament was in Oklahoma City at Lincoln Park West.  The same course we played my very first day of collegiate golf qualifying.  Our coach said everyone was going to play in this tournament.  I was so excited!  I was going to play in my very first collegiate golf tournament!


We began qualifying, and my scores once again were awful.  I was consistently shooting around 82.  Sometimes it would be a few strokes lower, and sometimes it would be a few strokes higher.  My swing coach back home told me about a guy in Oklahoma City who was really good at giving lessons.  He told me I should go see him to see if he can help me with my swing.  I agreed to.


I went to the lesson, and left extremely encouraged!  I began working on what the guy was teaching me.  He told me to adjust the way I gripped the golf club.  After about a week of trying this, I wasn't any better.  If anything, I may have gotten a little worse.  In golf, changing your grip is one of the hardest things to get used to.  I was having a difficult time adjusting to this new grip.  This was mid-September, and our tournament was quickly approaching September 27th.  I knew I better get my game in shape or else I was going to completely embarrass myself at the tournament.  I kept working on my game, trying to find my swing.


I came to my lowest point a week before the tournament.  I was still trying to get used to the new way of gripping the golf club and I didn't feel comfortable with my swing.  We played Oak Tree East Course on Saturday, September 25th, two days before the tournament.  I played decent on the first 10 holes, and then it began to rain.


We made our way to hole 11.  This is where it all went downhill.  I played absolutely TERRIBLE on the next 6 holes.  I lost 5 golf balls in 6 holes.  Then we made our way to hole 17, a par three.  This is one of the most difficult par three's I have ever played.  The hole is about 185 yards, over water, and there is a sand trap to the right of the green.  In other words, there is really no room for error.  If you aren't on the green, then you are in trouble.  I took two clubs to the tee-box because I wasn't sure which club to hit.  I took my 3-hybrid, and my 2 hybrid.  There was about a 15 mph wind that was blowing in our face.  I opted to hit the 2-hybrid.


It was my turn to hit.  I placed my ball on a good piece of grass, and went through my pre-shot routine.  I aimed at the right side of the green for two reasons.  One, the wind was probably going to blow the ball back to the left toward the green, and two, I didn't want to hit the ball in the water.  I swung and the ball went flying into the air.  I hit a low fade into the wind.  The swing felt great!  As the ball was getting closer and closer to the green, I could tell there was a chance it may end up short in the water.  When the ball finally landed, I saw it splash about 3 yards short of the green.  My heart sank.  I had now just lost 6 golf balls in 7 holes, with a chance of losing more.  At this point I was fuming with anger.  I teed-up another ball.  I hit the same exact shot, a low fade.  This time I thought the ball was going to reach the green.  I was wrong.  I saw the ball splash in the water... again.


What happens next is something I'm not proud of.


I yelled out in anger at the top of my lungs, and threw my club as hard as I could into a pile of weeds to the right of the tee-box.  I picked up my 3-hybrid that was laying on the ground, and threw it straight into the ground (bad idea).  Immediately, I saw my club bend.  I knew I had just snapped the steel shaft in my 3-hybrid.  Honestly though, I didn't really care at this point.  I furiously walked back to my bag and pulled out another ball.  I walked back toward the tee-box, but had to march into the weeds to get my other club.  I picked up my club in the weeds, and stomped to the tee-box.  I carelessly dropped my ball on the tee-box and immediately swung as hard as I could.  I looked up and saw the ball heading toward the same exact spot.  This time, by the grace of God, the ball cleared the water by 2 yards and landed on the green. I bent over with my hands on my knees, trying to gather myself with what just happened.  As I began to cool off, I walked over to my other club that lay bent on the ground.  When I went to pick the club up, the steel shaft completely broke.  I picked up the two parts of the club, and quietly walked back to my bag.


The two guys I was playing with were completely quiet and in shock.  One of them is from Argentina and the other is from Norway.  They didn't say a word.  They couldn't believe I had just snapped my club, and honestly, I couldn't either.  Controlling my temper on the course is always something I have been exceptionally good at.  When I was little (8 years old) my mom would pull me off the course if I threw a club.  I was taught at a young age to respect the game and control my temper.  I have always done a great job of that.


The guys on the team know I control my anger on the course really well.  I had played poorly the past year, and not once did I show any anger.  All my poor play over the past year had just boiled to that point.  I had never released any frustration, and it came out on that one hole.  I was lucky my bag wasn't close to the tee-box, because if it was,  I probably would have thrown it in the water... seriously.  It's hard to express how mad I was that day.  I think I ended up shooting a 96.


I finished my round and began to put my clubs in the car.  As I sat there in the parking lot putting my things away, I broke down crying.  Golf confused me.  I played so well in high school, and now I'm in college and playing worse than I ever have.  I was also mad at myself for letting my anger get the best of me.  I know better than to lose my temper, and I let my guard down on that one hole.  I was disappointed with myself.


Coach came over to talk to me.  I tried to hold back the tears, but they just kept coming.  Coach asked if I would still like to play in the tournament on Monday.  I said I definitely wanted to play.  I thought it might motivate me to play better golf.  He gave me some words of encouragement and told me he would see me Monday at the tournament.  I finished putting my things in the car and drove back to campus.


That night I told my mom what happened.  She wasn't angry or mad that I broke my club.  She just felt bad.  My parents know how frustrated I have been.  They have heard all the stories about how poorly I have played.  Every day they ask how I played that day, and every time I say, "Not good."  They have been frustrated too.  It doesn't make sense that my game would just, "poof", disappear.  My mom also gave me some words of encouragement, and told me she and my dad would be praying for me.


I took my broken golf club to Golf Galaxy where they fixed it within 24 hours; just in time for the tournament on Monday.


It was time to play in the tournament.  September 27th was here, and I was just hoping not to embarrass myself.  I hardly had any confidence, but was hoping the tournament would motivate me.  We played 36 holes on Monday.  I played 27 bad holes, and 9 decent holes.  My parents came down to watch.  When they got to the course, the first shot they saw me hit was me hacking the ball out of some thick weeds.  I was hitting the ball everywhere.  Sometimes I would hit the ball way left, and sometimes I would hit the ball way right.  I rarely hit the ball down the middle of the fairway.  We played 18 more holes on the 28th.  I played even worse the second day.  My scores for this tournament were absolutely awful.  They were scores that reflected how bad I was playing.  I shot 84, 77, 87.  I placed 85th out of 87 golfers.  Third to last place.


At this point I was burnt out.  I wasn't burnt out on golf, but burnt out on playing bad golf.  I was sick of playing terrible every day.  Golf was not fun anymore.  Every time I played I ended up playing terrible.  I had now been in a slump for the past 13 months, and was mentally and physically exhausted.