DJ Out

Over the past few weeks, I’ve had the opportunity to reflect on my relationship with the game of golf. To put it bluntly, having my high school career end leaves a hollow feeling. I know I’m nowhere done with playing competitive golf, but the thought of it genuinely scares me.

The process to play collegiate golf is brutal. If you’re not mentally and emotionally strong enough, it can make you feel worthless. The odds are so stacked against you that coaches are very selective on who they take. Typically, only 2 or 3 spots are available every year for thousands and thousands of potential players. I’ve been told “no” more times than anybody would ever realize.

At this point, I’m continuing to work harder than ever to achieve my goals. As I type this, I am on the plane to Las Vegas to keep competing. I’ll be the first to admit there’s days where I ask myself why I’m doing this. Sometimes it honestly feels hopeless. I think it’s the love of the game that keeps me from quitting.

In the end, there's something magical about the game of golf. Whether it's getting up before sunrise to "sweep the dew" off the golf course or the rush of adrenaline on the first tee of a tournament. More important to me will be the memories. Golf has taken me to some amazing places. I've played in events from Southern Florida to Northern California to everywhere in between. I've stayed at amazing resorts and Hampton Inns in towns of 5,000 people. I've played golf courses with prairie grass and water and (now) desert. I've met awesome people. Young and old, good or bad, I would say the people in golf are some of the best in the world. Candidly, I don't know what my future holds for me. Golf may end up being my livelihood. Golf may also just end up being a hobby. Regardless, the memories and experiences I've had from golf will help me the rest of my life.

Grandma

My grandma is one of the most important people in my life. An [age redacted] year old, 5'5, firecracker, she makes any room she enters feel brighter. However, other than being a major influence in my day-to-day life, she has played in an instrumental part in my growth in the game of golf.

For starters, my parents were never interested in the game of golf. Sure they gave me plastic clubs and balls when I was young, but they knew nothing about the game. Meanwhile, my grandma was the most established golfer in my family. She had an opportunity to play the game professionally, but was unable to find a chaperone to accompany her to events (don't ask, it was a different time). She ended up getting married, becoming a mother, and ended up winning numerous club championships at different clubs. Unfortunately, the game was taken away from her far too young. Before I was born, she found out she had an advanced stage of breast cancer. The surgery required to remove the cancer effectively ended her playing career.

Then, I was born. As the only one who took any interest in golf, I felt a unique connection to her. As you can probably see from previous blog posts, golf is a game which makes no sense to people outside the game, and all the sense in the world to people inside the game. Unfortunately, I took about a 10 year hiatus from the game to play other sports. When I picked up the game again at the age of 12, I fell in love with it right away. My grandma was one of my very first "swing coaches". She taught or confirmed most of the basics I was being taught. To this day, whenever she visits, we always trek out to the range. I pull out a chair and an umbrella for her, and we go to work. Her coaching style is very simple. It's always a welcome break from the intensely technical voice of my actual coach. Often she says something as simple as "slow down a little bit." It's amazing how sometimes the most simple advice is the most useful. 

More important than her physical coaching, she's also a fantastic mental coach. Every tournament round I play in, I always receive a text message almost immediately after. Sometimes it's congratulatory, but it's often motivational or encouraging. Especially when you get to higher levels of competition, the pressure to perform increases substantially. One even mediocre round can eliminate your chances at winning an event. An unusually poor round can sometimes feel like the world is spinning around you. Her cool-headed messages have the ability to put a bad day on the course into perspective. 

Finally, her actual support on the course is incredibly calming. She always comes in for the 4th of July and the very end of my high school season. She usually watches anywhere from 3-5 tournament rounds a year. There is something relaxing about seeing a calming presence in the often hectic nature of tournament golf. 

I'll close this post with one of the most amazing memories I've had with her. I was visiting her in Florida during Winter Break one year. She lives in a gated community with multiple courses and a practice area, which is where I spend most of my time. One day, I left my golf bag near the putting green as I went to go grab a drink. When I came back, my putter was gone. I looked up and saw my grandma rolling putts on the green. I remember standing next to my golf bag, mesmerized by watching her practice. For a brief moment, I watcher her gleefully reconnect with the game that was taken away from her.  

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...

Golf Course Architecture

Golf Course Architecture is perhaps one of my favorite things to study. The way the holes are supposed to be flawlessly cut into the natural terrain of the course is something that came from the origins of the game in Scotland. To this day, architects from 100 years ago are revered for their work and many courses are seeking to get away from modern golf course architecture in favor of “Golden Age” architecture.

First, I should probably describe what “golden age architecture” actually is. The premise, according to “The Fried Egg” (Perhaps my favorite golf blog) can be summed up by the expression “width and angles”. To further elaborate, let me use a diagram. Aronimink Golf Club was founded and designed in the early 1920’s, and recently restored to host a PGA Tour event.

As you can see, there is a significant amount of fairway width (the short grass). This allows a good player to miss the fairway and convince them that the hole will remain easy. However, the beauty of this style of golf course is the “delayed penalty”. Although the ball is in play, the angle required to get to the green makes it impossible to get the ball close to the hole.

A good example of this is shown above. If the pin is tucked behind that front bunker, it is impossible to get enough spin on the ball to stop it close to the hole from the rough.

Now, you might be wondering what would be the other end of the spectrum. This is Purdue Kampen Golf Course, designed by every golfer’s favorite asshole, Pete Dye.

As you can see, if the ball veers even a small bit off the fairway, the player is essentially screwed. Pete Dye is known for intentionally trying to scare the absolute crap out of players. This type of golf is certainly less fun, but I’ve been forced to play it for some elite events.

Now the question remains. Why is everybody wanting to restore courses to the former architecture style. The simplest answer is enjoyability. A fantastic golfer and a crappy golfer can play the course above, not lose any balls, and enjoy the cerebral challenge of the course. In the course below, even mediocre players will be donating a cadre of balls into the local lakes. Not only does that cause dread, it makes playing golf less fun.

The Mental Side of Golf

Golf, by nature, is 90% mental. Perhaps the only sport that rivals it with regards to failure vs. success is baseball. It’s a game where being off by 1/10 of a degree can be the difference
between a perfect shot and utter disaster. Because of the razor thin margins, golfers need to develop a strong sense of resilience and try their best to maintain their composure on the
golf course.

For me, this was always extremely difficult. I always considered myself an emotional player, and I would ride the emotional waves as the round would progress. However, my scorecard
would very much be emblematic of these violent mood swings as well. I knew that to be a good player, I would have to learn how to approach my game from a calmer standpoint.

The first thing I did was pick up a sports psychology book, Golf is Not a Game of Perfect by Dr. Bob Rotella. The book itself placed a major emphasis on living in the moment and trying
as hard as possible to execute your strategy by maintaining self-awareness and positive thought. The book was groundbreaking for me. Although it took me lots of time, I eventually
figured out how to execute this strategy in a successful manner.

Another major factor in me learning how to stay composed was my trainer/surrogate dad Coach Joe Yager. Coach Yager really helped me perspectivisme how meaningless each
individual shot and tournament is in the scheme of my life. I learned how to detach my self-worth from the game, which at the time was extremely difficult for me. That ultimately
helped me become a much more composed player.

The final part of my newfound composure was simply my maturity as a player. As I got older I gradually became less petulant, and the blow ups occurred less and less. Needless to say
my scorecard was also thankful for my newfound maturity. As you can clearly see, golf is an extremely mental game. Although I am not quite done with my maturation yet, I hope that process
will continue in the future.

On Equipment

If a carpenter’s tool box is the center of his profession, a golf bag serves the exact same role for a golfer. Inside the bag contains all the ornate shovels and hammers required for a solid day’s work. However, golfer’s clubs tend to be as diverse and unique as the players that use them. If the tools make the man, then the clubs make the man as well.

            My bag, in particular, is quite unique. A typical good player’s bag contains a Driver (the club players hit off the tee), a putter (to use on the greens), some high-lofted wedge (loft is how the club sits with respect to the ground, the more “loft”, the more it looks like a pancake), and a set of irons (blade looking clubs designed to go a different distance). However, that’s pretty much where the similarities end from player to player. Some players elect to use a 3 wood (effectively a mini driver) as their second longest club in their bag. Others choose a “driving iron” (an abnormally long iron designed to replace the 3 wood with a lower trajectory). Working from the longer end of the bag to the shorter end, some players elect to use hybrids, which look like baby 3 woods and are designed to fly shorter. I personally carry a “2 hybrid” and a 3 iron, rather than all irons or woods. Most players tend to have a succession of irons from 4-9, typically varying by about .5 inches in length and 4 degrees of loft. After the 9 iron, the bag again becomes unique depending on each respective player. Since you’re only allowed 14 clubs, typically either the long end or the short end has “gaps” that can’t really be filled. Personally, my gap is on the longer end of the bag, as I carry a 46 degree, 50 degree, 54 degree, and 58 degree wedge. Tiger Woods, for example, carries a 46 degree, skips a wedge, 56 degree and a 60 degree. As you can see, different players have very different bags from one another.

            Not only are the clubs each player uses different, the balls they choose to use are too. Typically, brands such as Titleist and Taylormade make different types of golf balls. Depending on how many “pieces” the inside of the ball is and what cover is on the ball, it can have slightly different behaviors in the air. Even the smallest of changes can make a 500 rpm difference in the air, which is critical for controlling the height and spin of the golf ball. Due to my body type and club selection, I’m naturally a high-launch high-spin player. Because of that, I chose a low spin ball so I have a better chance of cutting the ball through the wind. Ultimately, each player has to choose the ball that both “feels right” and provides the launch and spin characteristics they desire.

            As you can see, golf equipment is a lot more complicated than one may think. Hopefully, I did a successful job of showing the intricacies of golf equipment while also showing a little about the choices I make when I look for a set of golf clubs.

DJ’s Bag Set Up

Driver (10.5 degrees of loft)                           255 yd carry distance

3 wood (16 degrees of loft, bent to 14.5)      230 yd carry distance

2 Hybrid (17 degrees of loft)                          215 yd carry distance

3 iron (21 degrees of loft)                              200 yd carry distance

5 iron (29 degrees of loft)                              185 yd carry distance

6 iron (33 degrees of loft)                              170 yd carry distance

7 iron (36 degrees of loft)                              160 yd carry distance

8 iron (39 degrees of loft)                              148 yd carry distance

9 iron (42 degrees of loft)                              136 yd carry distance

Pitching Wedge (46 degrees of loft)              127 yd carry distance

Gap Wedge (50 degrees of loft)                    110 yd carry distance

Sand Wedge (54 degrees of loft)                   90 yd carry distance

Lob Wedge (58 degrees of loft)                     60 yd carry distance

Putter