Episode 086 - You Know It When You See It

I am continuing with the process of releasing some of the large amount of notes that I’ve filed away over the years that pertain to personal growth. As I mentioned, I am not building any podcasts specifically around any of these ideas. I am just putting them out to you without any particular format so you can take them in one at a time and see if they do anything for you.

          One thing I didn’t mention is that some of these are not just ideas, they are actually notes that I’ve taken with the idea to possibly construct a short story around. It’s something that I learned from the gifted American Literature professor that I was fortunate to have in my senior year of college, prize winning author Kermit Moyer.

          Kert told me that for the most part, he wrote like a jazz musician who was improvising a piece. He said he never knew where the writing would take him. He would just get started and soon the work would begin to take shape, almost on its own. He authored many of his writings in that way. The idea caught my fancy, and although I do a lot more planning than that, the technique is something that I do love to play around with.  

          So, we’re going to begin today’s podcast with a quick story about something that happened to me about fifteen or twenty years ago. I have a working title for this working story, but to be honest, I’m not sure that the story is going to go much farther than here. The title is, “You Know It When You See It.”

          As I mentioned in a few episodes in the past, I’ve been playing golf for many, many years and I am really, really bad at it. Trust me. I’m not being modest or humble about it. The truth is that I was horrible when I first started playing around with it and I am every bit as horrible now as I was twenty-five years ago. I do enjoy playing. I’ve learned a lot about it and a lot from it. But I’m just plain bad at it.

          Comedian Larry David says he’s in the same boat and he once put it this way. “You really have to have a knack for this game and the truth is, I’m knackless.”

          Don’t worry. This story isn’t really about golf at all. It’s more about the recognition of mastery. So, here’s what happened.

          We live in a condominium on Philadelphia’s Fairmount Park and there is a golf driving range about two miles away that is called “Longknockers.” I used to go over there about twice a week to hit some balls. Because my schedule is usually pretty flexible, I would go over on weekdays in the early afternoon, when the place was basically empty.

          Like most driving ranges, it is a huge, open field and being in the park, there is a large line of trees on one side. I would generally go all the way over near this line of trees so I could be in the shade as I was hitting.

          One afternoon, I went over there as usual and as I was walking over to my secluded spot near the trees, I was surprised to see that someone was sitting in a chair, right behind the area where I usually played from. There was never anybody there and I always had it to myself, so I was mildly perturbed. Anyway as I walked closer, I could see that this guy wasn’t just sitting in the chair, he was actually sprawled across it. As I got a little closer, I could see that he seemed to be unconscious. I didn’t want to disturb him, but I did want to hit my bucket of balls from my spot, so I set up about ten yards in front of him.

From that vantage point, I could see a few empty bottles on the grass around his chair.  I’m not sure exactly what had been in them, but they looked like booze bottles and the general smell of the place gave a clear confirmation.

I started to hit a few balls in the direction of this huge tree that was off in the distance. I had been told it was about 210 yards away. I would always hit towards the tree and even with my driver, I would consider myself lucky to be able to reach it. If you know anything about golf, you know that if you consider yourself lucky to be able to hit your driver 210 yards, you’re not what they call a “big hitter.”

So, I kept hitting and the guy was still passed out on the chair behind me. Finally, after I hit a shot I heard him say, “You’re not replicatin’ your practice swing.” I turned around and looked at him. He was sitting up a little and was a little more conscious than he had been before.

“What the hell are you takin’ a practice swing for if you’re not going to at least try to replicate it. Complete waste of time.”

I knew he was right, but I also knew that it wouldn’t be a stretch to categorize my interest in golf with that phrase. Complete waste of time wouldn’t be an inaccurate summation of all the hours I had spent in my life hitting golf balls. Mark Twain once said that golf was a good walk spoiled, which never bothered me much because I usually took a cart. 

 “You want a lesson?” he asked me. My first thought was, “My God, why would I want a lesson from this guy. He looked like he’d be lucky if he could stand up.

“I teach all the best players around here. I teach at Merion, Pine Valley, Commonwealth National.” That last name caught my attention becasue my closest friend belonged to Commonwealth.

“Oh yeah?” I asked. “How much?”

“Forty bucks,” he answered.

“I only got twenty,” I said.

“Good enough,” he responded.

He got up and kind of staggered over to me. He looked in my bag. “Oh, you got a new Bubble Burner,” he said. Taylor Made, a major golf company had just come out with a new driver called the Bubble Burner. It was a big sensation and my wife had surprised me with one for my birthday a little earlier. It was an incredibly sweet gesture on her part because the truth is, at my level play, buying me a fake putter for miniature golf would have been a far more appropriate use of money.  

“I haven’t seen one of these in person yet,” the alleged teacher said. “You mind if I hit a few? He asked.

“No, not at all. Go ahead,” I responded.

Now I’m not nearly a good enough writer to describe what happened next.  He pulled the club out of my bag and the second he had the club in his hands, my perception of him immediately changed. I could tell just by the way he casually held the club in his hands that this guy really knew his stuff.

He teed up a ball, and with a very slow and easy, and obviously perfect swing, with no recognizable source of power whatsoever, he hit a ball over the tree in the distance. And I mean well over the tree, like over 250 yards in the air.

For a hacker like me, whenever you see someone hit a ball like that, you are basically stunned, which I was. He hit about five balls in a row. Each one went way over the tree and he deliberately bent a couple of shots to the right, which in golf is called a “fade.” And then a few over to the left, called a “draw.”

I was in a transformed state just watching him. I’m not sure I was even breathing. He handed me back the club and said, “I don’t really like what they’ve done with this. I couldn’t really control it.”

I could barely move. He started giving me a lesson and honestly, I don’t really remember what he taught me. I do remember that the way he had me swing the club was very different from the way I had been doing it.

We had a nice time together and as we were about to say goodbye to each other, he looked at me sideways and said, “Let me ask you something.” He was still pretty inebriated. “If I hadn’t shown you what I showed you today, what would you have been practicing?”

“I don’t know,” I responded, “I guess my same..”

“Your same old freaking bullshot,” he growled back at me, like a drill sergeant.  Of course those weren’t his exact words, but you get the point.

Later that day, I called my friend who belonged to Commonwealth and he knew exactly who this guy was because he was well known to the top players as the best player in the entire Philadelphia area. He could have made the pro tour but he had a serious problem with alcohol and was never able to kick it. A couple of years later, they found him dead in a flop house.

So why did I tell you this story? Well, simply because it taught me two very critical lessons that ultimately had to do with personal growth. The first one is, you know that you are in the presence of the master of a craft as soon as you see them perform. This can be about anything, sports, cards, chess, knitting, you name it. You can be around a lot of people who are good, but when you’re with a true master, you know it when you see it.

With this guy, whose first name was Billy, he was dead drunk when I first met him and he could have said a million things to me. When he took the club in his hands, I could tell he had skill, but I still had my doubts. But as soon as he started hitting the ball, constantly putting it well over the tree in the distance that I could barely reach, all my doubt immediately vanished and I was in that state in that famous Bruno Mars song when he sang, “Don’t believe me, just watch.”

The last thing that he said to me was deeply meaningful as well. If I hadn’t run into a teacher who could point out my errors and show me the way to a better swing, even though I would be doing something that I would call practicing, all I would really be doing is my same old freaking bullshot.

And by the way, with golf as with most skills, nothing beats having a real live teacher giving you instruction. God knows I have a million books and tapes on golf and they really haven’t done me much good. One good teacher is worth its weight in gold.

Now, it’s easy to know when you’re exposed to transformative information about golf because your score eventually starts to improve. With personal growth, if you have access to good information and especially if you have a good teacher, your inner world starts to improve. As our consciousness begins to evolve and expand, there is a natural sense of harmonic well being that starts to come over you, and all the better angels of your nature start to show up.

Well, I haven’t really examined this little anecdote in several years and it’s always a lot of fun and a little enlightening whenever I do. It was just a quirky little lesson about life that came to me unexpectedly on a golf driving range, delivered by a lovable rapscallion of a character who could have easily come straight out of the Twilight Zone. It’s the kind of thing that often happens when you’re lucky enough to be able to tune into it.

So that will be it for this episode. As always, keep your eyes, mind and heart opened, and let’s get together in the next one.