By Paul Guilfoyle
A few reflections from someone who has spent most of his life around golf and become increasingly fascinated by why we can play so well one moment, then somehow get in our own way the next.
Golf can certainly be infuriating at times.
You can stand on the range one minute flushing it. Perfect strike. Nice rhythm. Ball flight exactly how you picture it.
Half an hour later you’re standing on the fourth tee wondering how on earth your swing suddenly feels awkward, tight and out of control.
Most golfers know this.
You walk off the range thinking:
“Nice… It all feels good today.”
Then the card comes out.
Out of bounds right.
That fairway bunker I drove into last week looks ominous.
People watching.
A score suddenly starts to matter.
And something magic happens, somehow the game changes.
That’s the part of golf I’ve become increasingly fascinated by over the years.
Not so much swing mechanics although they obviously matter, but more why us golfers so often struggle to bring the game we already possess onto the course consistently once pressure, expectation and overthinking enter the frame.
Because I honestly think most golfers have already acquired far more skills than they are regularly able to access.
We see it all the time.
People standing on the range hitting one great shot after another. Balanced finish. Good strike. Swing looking perfectly athletic and natural.
Then they get on the course and start:
And usually the harder we try to play well… the harder it becomes to swing freely.
It seems to me golf is the only game where it seems possible to try too hard.
That’s one of the strange paradoxes of golf.
The game demands concentration and commitment, yet too much trying often gets in the way.
If you’re looking out for it, you can actually see it happening sometimes.
A golfer stands over a shot with so much concern about where the ball might go that they stop allowing themselves to simply swing the club.
And of course the more important the shot appears psychologically, the tighter and less free the movement tends to become.
Particularly when score enters the picture.
Some golfers can be playing beautifully until they realise they’re having a good round.
Then suddenly the mind races ahead.
“What if I mess this up (again!)?”
“What if I finally break 90/80/70?”
“What if I have to make a speech?”
And before long they’re no longer just playing golf. They’re trying to protect a score, protect an identity, protect an outcome.
Everything starts feeling heavy.
I remember years ago playing with someone who made 8 birdies in the round and only scored level par.
On the 17th tee he announced:
“I’ve lost my swing.”
Funny really.
Same golfer.
Same swing.
Same golf course.
Completely different state of mind.
That sort of thing happens constantly in golf.
One good hole and confidence can flood in.
Two bad shots and suddenly golfers think they’ve forgotten how to play.
But has the actual ability really disappeared that quickly?
Probably not.
I think confidence is often misunderstood in golf.
Most golfers think confidence comes from perfect golf. But if that were true hardly anybody would ever feel confident for long because golf is simply too difficult a game.
There isn’t a player on the planet who has total control over the golf ball.
One of the best PGA Tour players went on record to say before each round he expected to hit at least 6 bad shots.
His bad shots are probably a lot better than even some of my good ones but the point is even the absolute best players in the world miss greens, hole fewer putts than it might seem and are very capable of hitting poor shots when they feel under intense pressure.
The difference is that they tend to be super resilient and recover mentally very quickly. They don’t turn one poor shot into three holes of frustration and internal commentary.
Whereas many ordinary golfers seemingly torture themselves mentally following mistakes.
One bad swing and the post-mortem begins.
And the strange thing is, golfers would never speak to their playing partners the way they speak to themselves internally.
If somebody else followed us around the course saying:
“FFS Here we go again.”
“Why do you always do that.”
“You’re hopeless.”
“Such an idiot.”
“Why don’t you just give up.”
…do you think we might stop playing with them LOL.
Yet some of us tolerate it from our own minds every round.
I know I certainly did for years.
In fact there was a period where golf stopped being enjoyable for me altogether.
I was practising hard. Thinking hard. Trying hard.
Probably too hard.
My handicap drifted the wrong way and I became increasingly frustrated because deep down I knew I was and had been a better golfer than the scores I was getting.
That gap between ability and actual scoring can become very draining psychologically.
Especially for decent golfers.
Because most golfers have already experienced glimpses of really good golf.
That’s the important thing.
Almost everybody has had days where the game suddenly feels simple. Where they stop getting in their own way mentally and golf becomes much more instinctive, creative and more fun.
The swing flows.
Putts roll freely.
Decisions become clearer.
You stop restricting yourself and instead start playing with freedom.
And interestingly, when golfers describe their very best rounds, they rarely talk much about mechanics.
They talk about:
That’s interesting to me.
Because it suggests many golfers are not suffering from a total absence of ability.
They’re suffering more from interference.
Golf becomes mentally heavy.
Particularly under pressure.
Let’s take a fairly simple shot over water.
One golfer sees a clear target.
Another sees disaster.
Same hole. Same water. Completely different experience.
And the more emotionally loaded the situation becomes, the more difficult it often becomes to access the acquired skill the golfer already possesses.
I think that’s why golfers can sometimes hit great shots on the range then struggle to reproduce the same standard on the course.
Not necessarily because the technique disappeared that quickly. Hitting ball after ball on the range has no consequences, results aren’t at stake.
But because their mental state changed. Just one bad shot can potentially seriously damage a score.
Attention changed.
Tempo changed.
Attitude changed.
The body tightened up.
The golfer started trying not to fail instead of simply committing to a free flowing swing.
Hit the shot first. Worry afterwards if you have to.
That’s a very different feeling.
And I suspect most golfers know exactly what I mean because they’ve experienced both versions of themselves many times.
The free-flowing golfer.
And the tight careful golfer — the one that tries to just poke it down the middle or tries not to hit a bad shot.
The strange thing is they’re often the same person within the same round.
I’m certainly not against technical coaching by the way. Far from it.
Good golf coaches do incredibly valuable work and obviously golfers need sound fundamentals and practice.
But I sometimes wonder whether golfers overestimate how much technical perfection is required before they can start playing really well on the actual course.
Because many golfers seem trapped in this idea:
“Once I’ve finally perfected my swing… then I’ll start working on developing the mental skills to help prevent my mind from getting in my own way.”
The problem is golf doesn’t really work like that.
There’s no final point where the game suddenly becomes mistake-free and emotionally secure.
Even tour players feel nerves. Even elite golfers lose confidence. Even great swings can break down under pressure.
Golf seems to expose whatever is happening psychologically underneath.
Which is partly why the game is so fascinating.
It’s not just a physical game.
It’s a human experience.
The golf course has an extraordinary way of revealing:
Sometimes all within the same three holes.
And perhaps that’s why golf can feel so rewarding when we stop fighting ourselves mentally quite so much.
When we stop trying to force a score.
Stop trying to manufacture perfect thoughts.
Stop trying to control every outcome.
And instead begin to unleash the golfer that’s already inside us a little more.
Because I honestly think most golfers already possess far more natural and acquired ability than they consistently allow themselves to access.
It’s probably one of the reasons I became a Certified Mind Factor golf and performance coach in the first place because I genuinely believe many golfers already possess far more ability than they consistently manage to take onto the course.
Anyway… these are just some thoughts from somebody who’s spent a lifetime around golf and become increasingly interested in why we can sometimes play so well one moment and then seem to get so hopelessly in our own way and ahead of ourselves the next.
If any of this resonates and you ever fancy a relaxed chat over a virtual or otherwise coffee, beer or Zoom call about your own experience of the game, I’d genuinely be very happy to talk. No pressure. No hard sell.
Just an interesting one to one conversation between golfers.
