Imagine standing on the golf course, your heart pounding, as you realize you've just made a 12 - a septuple bogey - on the most prestigious golf course you've ever played. This is the story of a young golfer's journey, a tale of both enlightenment and embarrassment.
The Nightmare Scenario
Three swings, three misses. The ball seemed to disappear into the thick rough, and with each attempt, the task felt more impossible. My stance, more suited for a beginner, and the ball, waist-high on a treacherous lie, made the situation dire.
After three futile attempts, I knew I had to take an unplayable drop. I was now on my seventh shot, and the green was still 140 yards away. Barbara, our walking scorer, kept a tally of my mounting score.
This was the beginning of a nightmare that led me, a former Division III golfer, to make a 12 on a hole during the U.S. Women's Mid-Amateur. The tournament, a USGA championship, was the pinnacle of my golfing career thus far, and the pressure was immense.
A Learning Experience
The experience left me feeling a mix of emotions - enlightened and mortified. I'll spare you the gory details, but from the moment I took that drop, I felt a loss of control. My seventh shot sparked a downward spiral, leading me to another challenging lie, and eventually, a two-putt from 35 feet. It was a great two-putt, but it resulted in a 12 - a score I'd never made before in my competitive career.
As I walked towards Barbara, attempting a smile, I felt the weight of the moment. She offered kind words, and I rushed to the next tee, feeling the stares of the group behind me. I had 29 holes left, and I knew this might be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
The Road to the Mid-Am
At the start of the year, I decided to take a leap and enter the qualifier for the U.S. Women's Mid-Am. I threw myself into the deep end, playing in my local 18-hole qualifying event in Alpine, N.J. It had been years since I last competed in a stroke-play tournament, and my collegiate career had been cut short by the pandemic.
I survived a rocky start, summoning some of my best golf in years. I shot an even-par 72 in the rain, earning co-medalist honors. It was official - I had qualified for my first national championship, at The Dunes Course in Monterey Peninsula, a truly beautiful golf course.
The hard part, I thought, was over. But little did I know...
The Elite Environment
The U.S. Women's Mid-Am featured a 132-player field, and only the top 64 advanced to the match-play bracket. I flew to California, played practice rounds, and unfortunately, I didn't make the cut.
Everything about the tournament was impressive, but it also felt overwhelming. As a novice, I was in awe of the elite environment, but it also triggered a sense of panic. The nameplate on the driving range, the roped-off putting green, the senior amateurs at the welcome dinner - all these details were both cool and intimidating.
Under the Lights
As a writer, I'm used to observing from inside the ropes. But playing inside those ropes, with the pressure of posting a score, is a whole different ball game. My own expectations, and those of my friends and family, were on the line.
While it wasn't a life-or-death situation, the pressure was real. I was walking alongside the Pacific Ocean with my younger brother as my caddie, but the nerves were palpable.
Imagine the pressure Rory McIlroy felt on the front lawn of Augusta in 2011, or the players fighting for their livelihoods at Q-School finals. Tournament golf exposes your weaknesses, and the mental fortitude required to play at an elite level is immense.
Moving Forward
Despite the 12, I managed to calm myself and make three consecutive pars. The next day, I approached the course with a fresh mindset, and despite a few challenges, I finished with a 1-over-par on the back nine.
Acknowledging my mistakes and anxious thoughts, rather than suppressing them, seemed to help me move forward. It's a method I've written about before, and it worked for me on the course.
I posted scores of 88-79, beat several players, and walked off the course feeling a sense of relief.
And yet, I'm already looking forward to next year's qualifier, ready to face the challenge once more.
