State (Pt. 2)

Admittedly, the season started with more of a whimper than a bang. My first real test was in my first national event, the AJGA Preseason Junior in Wisconsin. The first round, I played absolutely horribly. I shot 83. I was in 46^th place out of 60 players. I remember driving back to my hotel in tears. I NEEDED to play well in this event. My entire Summer depended on it. With my confidence in shambles, I went out and shot 75 to move up the board. That was a huge stepping stone in my golf career.

My Summer season turned out much better. I played in my first AJGA Open (one of my goals), the Illinois State Junior (another one of my goals), and had some fantastic finishes. I finished my season in Bloomington, and accidentally almost made the MAJGT all-Midwest team. However, my high school season was soon beginning.

At that point, I had to do a lot of reflecting. Having played High School golf for 2 years behind Varun, I was always known as “The Other Uni golfer”. I never felt like I could just play like DJ Nelson. I went out this season with something to prove. I started the season with a bang, shooting 69 and finishing 2^nd in the first tournament. After that, I started to put too much pressure on myself, and the scores began rising. I credit Jessica’s dad (my golf coach) in helping me overcome this time and go back to playing golf with the joy I experience on the golf course.

As we entered the postseason, I couldn’t help but feel like the pressure was off my back. However, I felt an enormous amount of internal pressure to right the wrongs of the past year. It felt like the season was a crescendo to Sectionals, where I would face my demons head-on.

I won the regional after firing a 73 on the same course I played sectionals at the year prior. I knew on the 18^th hole I needed to make a 4 to win, and I executed. That gave me a jolt of confidence as we approached the Sectional round.

Of all the tournaments I’ve ever played in, 2018 Sectionals may be the most nerve-racking of them all. I remember before the round my hands were shaking, and I could taste the remnants of my egg sandwich I had eaten for breakfast when I bent down to pick the ball out of the hole. My first tee shot of the day was almost an out-of-body experience. I made fantastic contact and sent the ball screaming down the fairway. I flashed a smile. It was on.

That round of golf ended up being a 7 hour mental marathon. I felt an adrenaline rush that carried me through the first 9 holes. I had shot 36 on the front side. All I needed to do was play a not-disaster back 9 and I would be moving on to state. Unfortunately, that intense adrenaline rush led to a massive energy crash, and I spent most of the back 9 searching for energy. I made some mental mistakes, yet I sat on the 18^th tee needing a par to shoot 76. At that point, I knew I was in a fantastic position. I placed the ball on the tee and whacked the ball through the tree-chute and into the fairway. I then hit the next ball 20 feet away from the hole. 2 putts and I’d be moving on. I hit the first putt about 4 feet by the hole, leaving a comeback putt that wasn’t difficult if the entire crowd of people wasn’t watching. Sometimes, the universe works beautifully in parallels. This putt I poured in the middle. As I picked up the flag, my eyes began to water. I had never cried during a golf tournament before. “I did it”, I told myself. As I looked over to see my mom, dad, sister, and grandma (who was instrumental in me starting the game) standing there, I could hardly keep my emotions inside. As we finished I shook hands with the kids I was playing with and dashed off the course to hug my family. I did it. I was moving on to State.

Now admittedly I made the cut for state by about 5 shots (I found out later on). I actually surprisingly finished 2^nd in the Sectional.  State itself wasn’t quite the experience I had hoped for, but I left the course totally at peace. I got to play my final round High School round at State. I kept the ball from that Sectional. It's sitting on my desk, a symbol of me conquering a big demon for the first time. 

State (Pt. 1)

Five letters. One word. To many, state is meaningless. It's just a word, an abstract cause. To me, however, the word state has meant more to me than almost anyone knows.

October 9th, 2017. I walked up to the ball. It was a mere 3 feet from the hole. An easy putt. I stroked the putt and watched it clank against the rim of the hole and settle 18 inches from the cup. Visibly shaken, I tapped in for bogey. I had shot 80. I gingerly walked into the clubhouse with my heart racing. The cut for state was 79. I had missed it by a shot. After being consoled by my family, I walked to the car and drove away in shock. My streak of going to state was over.

That weekend was brutal. The IHSA State golf tournament is always the weekend after sectionals (which are usually on a Monday). I tried to distract myself from the outcomes and just bury myself in schoolwork. Unfortunately, it didn't work. I checked the online leaderboards over and over, jealous and embarrassed that I wasn't there with them. It was at that moment that I felt like an abject failure. I had felt like I let down not only myself, but those that had supported me. Unfortunately, from there, the next 2 weeks proved to be the most difficult time in my life.

I was signed up to play in a golf tournament in Chicago the next weekend. I told myself that would be where I righted the wrongs of the week prior. However, every time I stepped over a golf shot, I experienced this feeling of anxiety. It became so severe that when I was over the ball, it took significant will power to even take the club back. Not only did I not want to be on the golf course that weekend, I wasn't sure if I ever wanted to play competitive golf again.

However, as I gradually became separated from the game in the offseason, the more I realized how much the game meant to me. I literally couldn't stop thinking about playing golf or being on the golf course. Perhaps the most defining moment of me overcoming adversity last year was at a showcase camp with many college coaches that I wanted to impress. It was only a few months after my failure at Sectionals, and my confidence was still in tatters. I remember walking off the course after the two days with a smile on my face. No, I didn't win the tournament. I didn't even place. But, I knew that I was on the right track to rediscovering my game.

I spent the majority of the Winter playing basketball during the week and secretly visiting my swing coach on the weekends. As far as I know, nobody even knew I was still playing golf. I had realized soon after the the showcase that I needed to revamp my swing in order to find the consistency I would need to compete at the highest levels. I remember coming home exhausted from basketball practice, trudging up into the attic where my net was, and hitting 100 balls working on the same swing patterns over and over. I knew that by the time March rolled around, my game would be in a place where I could begin to avenge the year prior...