Scratch By 50: The Bad Habits I’m Bringing To Golf

I’m 49 (the exact age of actor Wilford Brimley in the movie Cocoon) which means I’ve had a lot of time to either garner wisdom or cultivate bad habits. Mostly, the latter. Stealing cutlery from my friends’ houses, dotting the “i” in my signature with a tiny penis, rolling my hands over at the beginning of my backswing … these are all flaws that are deeply ingrained. They’re hard to shake. 

In addition to my hard-earned bad habits, I’ve also collected injuries from a lifetime of sports. It’s like I’m beginning a new relationship with golf but all of the baggage from my previous relationships is weighing me down. Does that mean golf and I are doomed before we even get started? Should we already be in couples’ therapy?

Probably. But let’s dig into some of the baggage that’s impacting my golf game.

I’ve dislocated my left shoulder twice while mountain biking. That’s baggage. I have a broken elbow from baseball that never healed properly so being able to straighten my left arm isn’t always a guarantee. More baggage. A high-school back injury has left me crooked (literally) for decades. The trunk is full of baggage at this point. And maybe most significantly, I have certain motions chiseled into muscle memory from decades of baseball. We’re strapping the baggage onto the top of the car now. 

The main issue I brought from baseball is an extreme inside takeaway. There is no backswing in America’s pastime. You start the swing with the bat perched above your back shoulder so my natural golf swing works to get the club to my back shoulder as quickly as possible. I roll my hands over and take the club away from the ball on a severe inside path, which results in an open face throughout the entire swing. With that open face, a straight ball path is entirely dependent on me timing the release of my club perfectly at impact. 

It’s a tough way to start your swing, unless you like to hunt for balls in the woods. If you love that part of golf, I highly recommend the inside takeaway. 

I’ve spent the last several weeks working intensely on that takeaway, trying to keep the head outside of my hands as I move the club away from the ball. I’ve been practicing a lot of quarter swings in my backyard and watching myself on video. I’ve also been doing the “two-ball” drill where you line up a second ball behind the ball you’re hitting and push it straight back with the backside of your club during the takeaway. 

In addition to that inside takeaway, I tend to execute the swing entirely with my shoulders. There’s no real turn in my natural swing so I’ve been trying to exaggerate certain feels like using my core to initiate my turn and sinking into my back hip. These two “feels” help me create a legitimate turn and get the club on the right plane at the start of my swing. 

It’s working. It’s a constant battle but I am seeing progress. When I’m playing a round, I’m quick to revert to my old inside takeaway and I have to consciously tell myself to keep the club outside of my hands. “Engage the core” is also a constant mantra now. Golf has become a repetitive, mindful practice. 

My coach, Sam Hahn, says I might always have to battle my natural instincts and the baggage that I’ve brought from other sports. 

“Your shoulder mobility and some of the deeply ingrained baseball motions are there to stay,” Hahn says. “We’re not going to mold you into Robert Rock [the British pro known for his picture-perfect swing]. The trick is figuring out what we can address and what we should leave alone. Focusing on some basic fundamentals, like the grip and the takeaway, will allow for success throughout the bag.” 

I know I’m not going to be able to develop a perfect swing. I’ll never swing the club like Rock or Ludvig Aberg. My body doesn’t move like that anymore. I’m not sure it ever did. But the new move is working. Keeping the club outside of my hands and starting the turn with my core is delivering results. It’s taken several weeks and the work isn’t done, but the new move is resulting in better contact and greater distance. After weeks of struggling, I’m starting to put up decent scores. 

People will tell you a lot of things about middle age. They say it’s harder to learn new things as you get older. I’m sure you’ve heard the tired saying “old dog, new tricks.” There’s some science to that. Studies show our brains slow down in our 30s and 40s. Something about plasticity and processing speed. Cool. They say golfers start to lose swing speed and distance at my age, too. Awesome. I’m going to dig into the swing speed issue in an upcoming article but, for now, let me just say that the rumors are true—getting older has its challenges. But all this business about losing a step mentally and physically isn’t true … at least, it’s not the whole truth.

I’m not saying mental and physical declines don’t happen with age. They do. I can’t run as fast or jump as high as I could when I was 17. But the decline with age that studies are quick to point out is relative. A person’s baseline needs to be considered as a factor and, more importantly, a person’s lifestyle can delay and minimize that decline. I’m even willing to say that you can get better with age. 

This is where a lifetime of other sports can actually help me on my quest for scratch. My day job as an adventure journalist is physically demanding. I’m constantly trying to keep up with professional athletes half my age so I have to stay in decent shape. If I’m not biking or skiing or climbing for work, I’m in the gym trying to ensure I can keep doing those things. I’m no Olympic athlete but as a result of this lifestyle, I’m stronger at 49 than I was at 39 or 29 or even 19. My mobility is actually better now than it was when I was a teenager. Why have I gotten stronger and more mobile as I’ve aged? Because I work on it Constantly.

I’m not saying being good at mountain biking or basketball will make me a great golfer. The skills don’t translate. But I am saying that I get good distance out of my clubs because I’ve paid close attention to fitness over the years and fitness is a large part of golf. 

There’s another advantage that age gives me over my younger self: I’m not a head case anymore. You know those guys who throw tantrums because they chunk a wedge and then that one bad shot leads to more because of their attitude? The internet seems to be full of those guys (why is it always guys?). I used to be that guy. But now I’m old and wise and I’ve learned a couple of things over the years: 1) how to draw a tiny penis and 2) a chunked wedge doesn’t matter. It’s just a single stroke on the scorecard. Life goes on. Golf goes on. That’s easier to understand now because I’ve had almost five decades of experience that tell me mistakes aren’t the end of the world. A bad score isn’t the end of the world. It’s just a bad score. Carry on like an adult and keep playing the game like you enjoy it. I didn’t have that perspective before. I was an idiot. I’m less of an idiot now. 

So, yes, there’s baggage that I’m bringing to golf from a lifetime of other sports but some of that baggage is good. I’ll continue to work around and through some of my bad baggage as I try to get better at golf and I’ll use some of my good baggage to give me an edge as I keep moving towards scratch.