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...