So, the other day, I found myself watching Happy Gilmore for probably the hundredth time. You know how it is, some movies just stick with you. And every time, I get a kick out of Chubbs Peterson. That guy, despite losing his hand to an alligator, still had the heart of a champion golfer. It got me thinking, you know? My own golf game is, well, let’s just say it’s more ‘Happy’ before Chubbs than after.
I figured, what the heck? Let’s try to channel some Chubbs. His whole “it’s all in the hips” mantra, finding your “happy place”… sounded like a plan. Or at least, a plan for some entertainment at the driving range. So, I grabbed my old clubs – seriously, they’ve seen better decades – and off I went.
First things first, I tried the “hips” thing. Man, it’s harder than it looks. I swear, for a good twenty minutes, I probably looked like I was trying to swat a fly with a garden hose while doing a bad Elvis impression. Balls were shanking left, dribbling right, one even went backwards a bit. Not my proudest moment. People were definitely giving me some funny looks. I could almost hear Shooter McGavin laughing somewhere.
I took a breather. Remembered Chubbs trying to calm Happy down. So, I tried to find my “happy place.” For Happy, it was that weird stuff with his grandma and the midget. For me, well, I just pictured a perfectly still beer on a hot day. Didn’t magically make me a pro, but I did feel a bit less like a wound-up spring. I tried to loosen up, focus on a smooth swing, not just brute force like Happy before his transformation.
And you know what? After a while, something kinda clicked. Not like a hole-in-one moment, nothing dramatic. But a few shots actually went… straight. And further than usual. It wasn’t just the hips, I realized. It was about not overthinking, not tensing up. Chubbs was always trying to get Happy to control his temper, to find that calm. Maybe that was the real lesson.
I spent a good hour out there. Did I suddenly become a PGA tour hopeful? Absolutely not. My scorecard would still make a caddy weep. But I walked away feeling a bit less like a golfing disaster. I actually enjoyed myself, which, for me on a golf range, is a rare event. It’s funny how a character from a silly movie can actually give you a little nudge in the right direction, even if it’s just to relax and not take things so seriously.
So yeah, that was my “Chubbs Happy Gilmore” experiment. Didn’t find a wooden hand, didn’t fight any alligators. Just tried to swing a bit better and maybe, just maybe, found a tiny piece of my own golfing happy place. Still got a long way to go, but hey, it’s a start. Maybe next time I’ll wear a turtleneck, just for the full effect.
