None of them are perfect, so sometimes you have to put up with some crap to get substance. A doctor that can fix a hole in your heart might have a horrible bed-side manner, but you’ll put up with that to get the hole in your heart fixed. All the pros I’ve been to gave a sales pitch. They can’t survive on one-timers ‘cause there aren’t enough one-timers who’ll fork over dollars for lessons. And usually they’re working on a plan based on what they see you do. You might think they’re trying to hook you by feeding you a little at a time but I read once that there are 28 things you have to do right to hit a golf ball with a 7-iron and if a pro gave you 28 things to work on in one lesson you know very well how that would turn out. But there are limits and I understand that.
Thinking back, I’ve been to 3 kinds of pros.
One knew what needed to be done but couldn’t explain it so that I could understand it. So he grabbed a club and said “like this” and hit the ball. But if I could look at someone else and do what they do I’d just watch Tiger Woods and not have to pay a pro. It doesn’t matter if the miscommunication is his problem or mine, if we don’t connect so that he can communicate to me what I need to do so that I can do what he just did, I’m wasting my time so I don’t go back.
Another was condescending. I don’t put up with that. He goes home and tries to feed beets to his 2-year-old by saying “open the tunnel here comes the choo-choo” and he comes to my lesson and tries the same crap on me to get me to swing a club. Not me. I’m outta here. It sounds like you may have had some of that.
Best pro I ever went to was a driving range pro in Dallas. He had a rough tee-side manner but had me playing well enough to enjoy the game. I was 42 and he was about 80. I will never forget casting because it went like this:
I swung at the ball. I don’t remember if I hit it or not.
“You’re casting,” says he.
“What does that mean?” says me.
Make a swing like you’re trying to hit a baseball,” says he.
I swung at an imaginary baseball.
"Somewhere in that swing you experienced maximum inertia that tried to pull the club from your hands. Where was that?” says he.
I held the club out front somewhere.
“Exactly. When you cast the club, that maximum inertia point is somewhere behind you. By the time the club head gets to the ball the swing is over. You might as well put the damned club down and kick the damned ball. You’ll play better golf. Now swing again like you’re swinging at a baseball only this time swing down and make sure the golf ball gets in the way.”
I set up.
“And don’t move your feet,” says he.
“What?” says me.
“Do I stutter? You heard me. Don’t move your damned feet. You’re lifting your left heel. Don’t do that. And don’t move your damned head, either. This is golf, not baseball.” says he.
The session went like that and by the end he had explained damned feet and damned legs and damned hips and damned sway and all that and I was hitting my 5-iron 180 yards straight down range. That lesson had substance. I took 5 lessons from him. I wish he was here in Florida today.
So the question is, did the things your pro gave you to work on have substance enough that you are willing to put up with his mannerisms? If not, move on. Regardless of substance, if his tee-side manner was uncomfortable to you then you won’t take him seriously or you won’t look forward to the next lesson. That’s why I bail on condescension. Wherever you are there are other pros in your area, so find one. It’s your money and you worked hard for it so when you spend it get value in return.