Swagger

My college golf coach spent the greater part of my second and third year on the golf team preaching about swagger; having an attitude that radiated confidence and buoyancy, but wasn’t drenched in conceit. I never quite knew how to do that. I knew exactly what he meant by it. Everybody on the team knew what he meant. But we had never won anything as a team. It was tough to puff your chest and expect people to know who you were on the driving range if other coaches had gotten in the habit of calling you “University of Misery” under their breath, instead of University of Missouri.

Nonetheless, swagger came to certain individuals on the team, but only as a direct result of a few fantastic individual efforts. The roster as it was, never did amass enough swagger to capture a team title though.

As a coach now, it always intrigues me working with a student who either has a nice playing resume and no swagger or no resume and an abundance of swagger. Some of the best athletes and teams in the world struggle to master the art of establishing dominance over their opponent before they’ve played a second of competition or even spoken a single word to each other. Recently, Tiger Woods spoke of doubts he had in his mind before winning the 2008 US Open on a torn ACL and two stress fractures in his left leg. How in the world does Tiger Woods doubt himself? Before taking the pitch in group play of the 2008 UEFA Euro Cup, the Spanish national team, widely recognized as the odds-on favorite on paper, recorded a song which, roughly translated, was titled “Let’s Make it Past the Quarterfinals.” How does a team of global all-stars find solace in finishing short of the title? Tough to explain.

Stories of self-doubt run rampant in modern athletics and the sport of golf seems to host a high percentage of those offenders. I recently played a 5-hole pro-rated match against a student of mine who has one of the more “homegrown” swings at Winnetka Golf Club. His move is uniquely his, and nobody will ever try to imitate it, let alone teach it. To put it nicely, he looks like he is trying to throw a 20 pound medicine ball underhand up into the top branches of a tree.

Last week he came cruising out of the parking lot, five minutes late for a lesson, dripping in swagger. I could tell he was not in a rush to make up for lost time. Rather, he wanted a match. He was playing to a 12 and I to a plus 3. However, on the five holes we played that day, I only had to concede three strokes. Funny thing was, that felt to me more like 10 or 12 shots. Not only did I feel overwhelmed on the first tee, but he hit just about every shot the way he envisioned it. He made bogey on the final hole to allow me a lucky halve of the match.

His swagger was oppressive, right out of the gates, and almost negated the 15 strokes that separate our handicaps. He knew how he was going to play every hole and might as well have called his shot before every stroke. Commitment and confidence provide him with an incredible ability to repeat his seemingly unrepeatable motion.

On the other hand, I teach an up-and-coming young stud who plays No.1 for one of the perennial powerhouse high school programs in the state. His experience is limited, but he compiled a few medalist trophies during his junior year campaign the most impressive of which came from the Catholic League Championships and jump started a very impressive run through the state tournament. Area players know his name, have seen his game and are always slightly intimidated when teeing it up in the same event. Simply put, he is easily intimidated and has a difficult time using his imposing reputation to his advantage.

I’m learning that swagger is a tough trait to teach, especially to a kid who is not used to thinking like a hunter or a hungry competitor on the golf course. Notably, it is difficult to distinguish between being humble, polite and quiet and wanting to beat somebody by so many strokes that they think about quitting golf as a result.

I wonder if the swing and all its mechanics can be taught, but the hunger, passion and desire to win and compete are traits bestowed upon the best athletes because of nature, not nurture? The best want to not only win, but they want to win by a suffocating and decisive margin. That margin should breed confidence and, consequently, swagger. I didn't answer anything here...only raised more questions. Stay tuned...