Alright, so I spent a good part of my afternoon thinking about Morgan Hoffman, the golfer. His name just popped into my head, and I went down a bit of a rabbit hole. It wasn’t about trying to copy his swing or anything, because, let’s be honest, that’s a young man’s game, and my back wouldn’t thank me for it.
No, what got me was his whole story. You hear about pro golfers, and you think of the wins, the endorsements, the perfect courses. But Hoffman’s journey, with the health battles and then heading off to Costa Rica, doing things his own way… that’s different. It really stuck with me. I pulled up some articles, read a bit about his approach to wellness and getting back to the game. It’s not your typical PGA Tour narrative, that’s for sure.
My Own Little Experiment
So, I started reflecting on my own golfing life. For years, I was obsessed with having the “right” stuff. The latest driver, the newest balls, the swing tips from whatever pro was hot that month. I spent a fortune, and honestly, my handicap barely budged. It was frustrating, you know? Always chasing something someone else said was the way.
I remember this one time, years ago, I bought this super expensive putter. All the tech, all the promises. Couldn’t sink a thing with it. Meanwhile, my old, beat-up blade putter, the one I learned with, was just gathering dust in the garage. I’d convinced myself it was obsolete.
Well, after reading about Hoffman and his unconventional path, I got to thinking. Maybe this constant search for the “approved” method isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. So, I did something I haven’t done in ages. I went out to the garage, dug through a pile of old clubs, and found that old blade putter. It’s got dings, the grip is worn, it’s nothing fancy.
I took it to the practice green. Didn’t even bother with my usual alignment sticks or drills. I just started rolling putts. Trying to feel it, you know? Like when I first started playing, before I knew all the “rules” about what a good stroke should look like. Just me and the ball and the hole.
And you know what? It wasn’t magical. I didn’t suddenly start draining everything. But it felt… honest. Simpler. There was a certain kind of quiet focus that I realized I’d been missing, always trying to be so technical. It made me think that maybe, just maybe, finding what works for you is more important than what the magazines say.
Hoffman, from what I gather, had to find his own way out of necessity. Most of us don’t face that kind of challenge, thank goodness. But his story kind of nudged me to look at my own little ruts. It’s easy to get stuck doing things a certain way just because that’s how they’re “done.”
So, that was my practice for the day. No balls bashed on the range, no new swing thoughts. Just a bit of reading, a bit of reflection, and a little experiment with an old friend. It’s funny how you can draw inspiration from unexpected places. Made me appreciate that there’s more than one way to play this game, or live your life, for that matter. Definitely gave me something to chew on.
