The Anyway Shot

We all hit bad shots.  It's the nature of the game, hitting a ball to what is hopefully a clearly defined target, with tools poorly designed for that purpose--just kidding--will result in misses, sometimes big misses.  

Bobby Jones was the best player of his generation, if not all time.  He was confident that, when he was playing well, in any given round he would hit no more than six shots, other than putts, exactly the way he planned to.  The rest were usually quite serviceable, Bobby's misses generally being better than anything the average duffer might hope for.  In golf it's all relative.  The shot that slightly annoys a top player, might very well delight the duffer.

Since we are going to miss shots, it is important to accept that fact and not get too irate, or discouraged, if we happen to miss a few more than usual occasionally.  We're human, and golf is a hard game.  Where we should get annoyed is when we miss shots, not because of a physical mistake, but because we made a silly mental error.

The worst ones are the "anyway shots."  I'm not sure where I first heard the expression, but it is an apt description of the one miss that should really cheese us off, because it's a miss that could have been easily avoided.  The anyway shot is the one you hit when that little voice is telling you something is wrong, but you hit it anyway.  Sometimes, you just feel uncomfortable standing over the ball; that you're not aligned correctly, or that you're standing too close or too far from the ball; or maybe you are pretty sure you have the wrong club, but you hit it anyway.  The result is seldom good.

I'm a fairly quick player.  Once I've decided on the shot I want to hit, I tend to prefer to get on with it reasonably quickly.  I don't generally take a practice swing, and usually a couple of looks, a waggle or two, and I'm hitting it.  I prefer, if I'm going to miss it, that I miss it quick.  I think my playing partners probably prefer it that way as well.  I think most people will play better if they play reasonably quickly.  Taking more time than is absolutely necessary just allows time for doubt to creep in and annoys your playing partners.

But there is a time to stop, regroup, and take a little more time.  That is when you are not comfortable, and that little voice is warning you that something isn't quite right.  That little voice is like our golfing conscience.  We all have one, provided we are not complete dullards, or absolute sociopaths.  Our conscience hopefully becomes better trained the longer we play, so it's wise to listen to it.

We need to resolve never to be that person who hits a stinker, and then announces, "I knew I wasn't set up properly, but I hit it anyway."  It isn't really a good excuse for missing it.  In fact, it's a terrible excuse.  Those anyway shots are killers.