Fighting Myself

Fighting Myself    

                                                                                                                               

     Fighting ourselves is one of the hardest difficulties in life to overcome. Nonetheless, we do it every day when doing homework instead of watching TV, staying cool even after someone insults us, or choosing an actual apple instead of an apple pastry. Fighting ourselves means not letting our emotions and impulses overtake our being, something I was very unfortunately inexperienced at.

     The first time I held a golf club, I was eight years old. On a warm spring day in San Diego, I followed my dad to a golfing range where the unfamiliar yet comforting scent of dewy grass filled the air. I saw people hitting golf balls, making loud clangs that reminded me of two metal pipes hitting each other. This was a strange but intriguing world, and I wanted to play.

     I started playing golf seriously when I was in middle school and began taking lessons in an indoor golf range. Though it was hard to know how far your ball went, it shielded me from the climatic variables such as rain and wind. The somewhat claustrophobic indoor golf range had a net three meters away to catch the balls. There were two black comfy chairs on the right side of the hitting space, to which I would gladly sink down after an especially intense practice session, and a gigantic air conditioner in the corner, an all-time popular seat during the summer. The ceiling was just high enough that clubs wouldn’t bang into it during the backswing. Although it was comfortable, it made golf slightly boring.

In many sports the most important goal is to defeat your foe; golf has no such opponent. A golf player’s biggest enemy is oneself, and the entire game is a kind of a battle against the self. The same was true when I was practicing golf. I had to hit 300 balls a day all by myself trying to improve my swing every time.  If I lost my concentration even for a fraction of a second, it would affect the path of my swing in the tiniest way. This would cause me to hit the ball just a centimeter off target, and the ball would veer off by a mile. Whenever that happened, I got frustrated and angry, which disrupted my concentration and made the next shot even worse, creating a vicious cycle. Dad told me I should learn to control my emotions and stay calm, but I just couldn’t.

     One day, I was lying lazily on the couch, watching TV, when dad hurried over to me and took the remote control from my hands.

“Sungwoo, you should see this.”

     He turned the channel to 264, the Golf Channel. It was the 2009 British Open. The screen showed a number of healthy tanned golf players walking the bright green field in their golf shirts and caps. It looked just like any other golf game we watched together.

 “What about it Dad?”

      Just as I asked the question, I saw something very out of place in the scene. A golfer with whitening hair and grandfatherly countenance appeared and began to prepare for his tee shot. I was surprised not only because he was very old to be in the tournament but also because he was in the leader board. I was immediately intrigued and was soon absorbed into the game.  However after a few holes he started getting bogeys after bogeys for about 9 holes. I was very disappointed. It’s over for that guy, I thought, he is going to get worse and worse because of that mistake. But surprisingly he didn’t. He regained his pace and he almost won the tournament, ending in second.  That person was Tom Watson, the 59 year old and the most famous golfer of 2009.

     I was deeply moved by what I just saw. Not by the fact the a 59-year-old man had almost won the British Open, which was a very surprising fact by itself, but by the fact that Tom Watson, who perfectly understood what the odds were for him to compete with men younger than him by an average of 20 years, who saw those young men hit 400 yards on their tee shots right in front of him with his own eyes, could be so calm and composed throughout the whole game. I would have been overwhelmed with worries and feelings of desperateness, and that would have messed up the whole game. But he maintained his own pace no matter what happened around him, and used his talents that he gained from his long years of experience to the fullest degree, and almost won. The complete self-control over his thoughts and emotions. He was the winner of the fight against the self.

     On the other hand, I realized I was a complete opposite. I was a very emotional and impulsive person. I was quick to anger, and I let the little things bother me. Even when I knew that my jokes or my actions would hurt somebody else’s feelings, many times I found it hard to suppress the boiling urge to do whatever popped up inside my head. This led to my almost daily fights with my older sister when I was young.

     I realized I had to learn to control my emotions, impulses, and had to maintain tranquility, just like Tom Watson. Even when I’m in a bad situation and everything seems to be going against my wish, I have to analyze the problem with a clear mind instead of reacting emotionally. I have to simulate everything in my head before doing anything.

The next time I was in a golf range, I tried to remind myself of the things I learned while watching the epic round. A shot flew amiss; I hit a top-ball and my right hand started ringing with pain; my driver shot hit the ceiling instead of going straight. I sensed boiling frustration building up inside me, but I pushed it back. I took a deep breath. I kept trying again and again even though I kept failing.  To my surprise, as time passed it became easier and easier.

     This hard-earned characteristic continued onto my everyday life even when I wasn’t practicing golf. Now I meet daily hardships in life with tranquility and calmness. I try to think ahead and plan what I should do. Golf had taught me not just a sport to play but a skill that has changed the way I think and act. It had taught me self-control.