Opinion: “Master class” in golf offers lessons about “ice,” life

By Kiran Dwivedi, GSS correspondent

SONGDO, South Korea — For a would-be sportswriter, it was like a dream come true.

Two weeks ago, I got the chance to report on the Presidents Cup golf tournament, which took place in Songdo, South Korea, where I live and go to school. It was an incredible opportunity to meet some of the world’s finest golfers and witness one of the sport’s most elite competitions.

So it may surprise you to find I have never touched a golf club in my life, nor watched golf on television, not even once. Apprehensive because of my obvious lack of knowledge, but keen to learn, I spent an afternoon at the course where the competition would be held.

During a press conference, I was able to meet Branden Grace, 27, a South African golfer who is ranked number 22 in the world. Considering my lack of golf-speak, I stuck to a simple, but relatable question:

“How do you keep your concentration out there?”

It was perhaps the go-to question for sporting professionals. However, as a high school junior who just moved to Korea from Germany, and juggling a demanding academic program plus tennis and outside activities like writing for my high school website and magazine,  I felt it might be of some help to know his secret.

Unfortunately, the response didn’t meet my expectations of a secret lifehack. It was one that seemed all too similar to the tips I get from my father, my mother, or teachers. It was practice, Grace told me, that helped take him to the top of golf.

Hearing the cliched “practice makes perfect” was disappointing. I could not shake the idea of how dull it must be to spend everyday walking around after a tiny white ball and spending hours on end knocking it into equally tiny holes.

But that was where I began to understand the true nature of golf.

Unlike football, golf is not physically demanding, speed is not all-important and brute force is not as important as finesse. Golf values mental endurance and strength of will pushed to extremes. Maybe hitting that ball does take practice.

After talking to Grace, I spent less time watching the ball and more time watching the golfers (after all when they hit the ball, it disappears out of sight instantly, with only the golfers seeming to know where it’s gone).

I noticed that when golfers were down, most were masters at controlling their frustration. Compare that to football: Player who are losing a match will complain to the referee or, worse, bicker with each other. But golfers — even though they are just as competitive — know that they can’t get frustrated or excited. They have to remain calm and focused through success and failure. Whereas footballers are masters of their bodies, the golfers I watched were masters of their emotions.

And that was how I got genuinely hooked.

The next four days on the misty greens of the Jack Nicklaus Golf Club flew by. I witnessed the defeat of nervous champions by coolly composed underdogs. I saw comebacks triggered not by luck, nor skill, but rather by the inability of the leaders to cope with the pressure. I watched frustrated players collapsing and worsening their already dire situations. I witnessed unbelievable humility on the part of players who succeeded, and felt the level-headedness among those in the jaws of defeat.

Indeed, I doubt I will ever forget these four days. Never again will I make the mistake of dismissing  golf as an easy or even a dull sport. The masterclass of control I beheld has given me enormous respect for the sport and its intricacy.

And despite Grace’s assurance that it was practice that had made him perfect, I believe there is another characteristic all great golfers have.

They don’t have blood running through their veins — it’s ice.

—Kiran Dwivedi is a junior at Chadwick International School in Songdo, South Korea. Email Kiran at kdwivedi2017@chadwickschool.org.