How to Improve as a Senior (60+)

[DaveP043]

1 hour ago, JuliWooli said:

Have most pros added it to their repertoire or is it still in very early stages?

I think there is a relatively small percentage of teaching pros that actively teach Aimpoint.  You may be able to find someone near you here:

Find Your Instructor

I see one in Munich, perhaps that's not too far away.

[JuliWooli]

2 minutes ago, DaveP043 said:

I think there is a relatively small percentage of teaching pros that actively teach Aimpoint.  You may be able to find someone near you here:

Find Your Instructor

I see one in Munich, perhaps that's not too far away.

Thanks, a couple of hours from me. We'll see.

[JuliWooli]

This is an excerpt from Fred Shoemaker's "Extraordinary Golf, The Art of the Possible"

I remember reading it a few years ago but now (especially for my dad) it seems more apt.

Dear Younger Me,

I can’t play anymore.  I tried to swing the club the other day but my body wouldn’t cooperate.  The best I can do now is sometimes take walks on the course, but my eyes aren’t as good as they used to be so I don’t see much.  I have a lot of time to sit and think now, and I often think about the game.

It was my favorite game.  I played most of my adult life.  Thousands of rounds, thousands of hours practicing.  As I look back, I guess I had a pretty good time at it.  But now that I can’t do it anymore, I wish I’d done if differently.

It’s funny, but with all the time I spent playing golf, I never thought that I was a real golfer, I never felt that I was good enough to really belong out there.  It doesn’t make much sense, since I scored better than average and a lot of people envied my game, but I always felt that if I was just a little better or a little more consistent then I’d really feel good.  I’d be satisfied with my game.  But I never was.  It was always “one of these days I’ll get it” or “one day I’ll get there” and now here I am.  I can’t play anymore, and I never got there.

I met a whole lot of different people out on the course.  That was one of the best things about the game.  But aside from my regular partners and a few others, I don’t feel like I got to know many of those people very well.  I know they didn’t really get to know me.  At times they probably didn’t want to. I was pretty occupied with my own game most of the time and didn’t have much time for anyone else, especially if I wasn’t playing well.

So why am I writing you this letter anyway, just to complain?  Not really.  Like I said, my golfing experience wasn’t that bad.  But it could have been so much better, and I see that so clearly now.  I want to tell you, so you can learn from it.  I don’t want you getting to my age and feeling the same regrets I’m feeling now.

I wish, I wish.  Sad words, I suppose, but necessary.  I wish I could have played the game with more joy, more freedom.  I was always so concerned with “doing it right” that I never seemed to be able to just enjoy doing it at all.  I was so hard on myself, never satisfied, always expecting more.  Who was I trying to please?  Certainly not myself, because I never did.  If there were people whose opinions were important enough to justify all that self-criticism, I never met them.

I wish I could have been a better playing partner.  I wasn’t a bad person to be with, really, but I wish I had been friendlier and gotten to know people better.  I wish I could have laughed and joked more, and given people more encouragement.  I probably would have gotten more from them, and I would have loved that.  There were a few bad apples over the years, but most of the people I played with were friendly, polite and sincere.  They really just wanted to make friends and have a good time.  I wish I could have made more friends and had a better time.

I’m inside a lot now, and I miss the beauty of the outdoors.  For years when I was golfing I walked through some of the most beautiful places on earth, and yet I don’t feel as if I really saw them.  Beautiful landscapes, trees, flowers, animals, the sky, the ocean—how could I have missed so much?  What else was I thinking of that was so important—my grip, my backswing, my stance?  Sure, I needed to think about those sometimes, but so often as to be oblivious to so much beauty?  And all the green—the wonderful, deep, lush color of green!  My eyes are starting to fail.  I wish I had used them better so I would have more vivid memories now.

So what is it that I’m trying to say?  I played the type of game that I thought I should play, to please the type of people that I thought I should please.  But it didn’t work.  My game was mine to play, but I gave it away.  It’s a wonderful game.  Please, don’t lose yours.  Play a game that you want to play.  Play a game that gives you joy and satisfaction and makes you a better person to your family and friends.  Play with enthusiasm, play with freedom.  Appreciate the beauty of nature and the people around you.  Realize how lucky you are to be able to do it.  All too soon your time will be up, and you won’t be able to play anymore.  Play a game that enriches your life.

That’s all I have to say.  I don’ really know just how this letter will get to you, but I hope that it reaches you in time.  Take care.

Love, Older Me

NO CRYING PLEASE!

[iacas]

2 hours ago, JuliWooli said:

Sorry, I meant teaching pros! There's always a line of tour pros lining up to collect sponsor money. Phil Mickelson comes to mind carrying two drivers in his bag.

The many Tour players who use it aren't paid to use it. Many paid to learn it themselves, because their possible ROI is huge.

[JuliWooli]

3 minutes ago, iacas said:

The many Tour players who use it aren't paid to use it. Many paid to learn it themselves, because their possible ROI is huge.

A tour pro paying for something golf related. That's new surely. ROI is clear.

Edited February 23, 2021 by JuliWooli

[Double Mocha Man]

37 minutes ago, JuliWooli said:

This is an excerpt from Fred Shoemaker's "Extraordinary Golf, The Art of the Possible"

I remember reading it a few years ago but now (especially for my dad) it seems more apt.

Dear Younger Me,

I can’t play anymore.  I tried to swing the club the other day but my body wouldn’t cooperate.  The best I can do now is sometimes take walks on the course, but my eyes aren’t as good as they used to be so I don’t see much.  I have a lot of time to sit and think now, and I often think about the game.

It was my favorite game.  I played most of my adult life.  Thousands of rounds, thousands of hours practicing.  As I look back, I guess I had a pretty good time at it.  But now that I can’t do it anymore, I wish I’d done if differently.

It’s funny, but with all the time I spent playing golf, I never thought that I was a real golfer, I never felt that I was good enough to really belong out there.  It doesn’t make much sense, since I scored better than average and a lot of people envied my game, but I always felt that if I was just a little better or a little more consistent then I’d really feel good.  I’d be satisfied with my game.  But I never was.  It was always “one of these days I’ll get it” or “one day I’ll get there” and now here I am.  I can’t play anymore, and I never got there.

I met a whole lot of different people out on the course.  That was one of the best things about the game.  But aside from my regular partners and a few others, I don’t feel like I got to know many of those people very well.  I know they didn’t really get to know me.  At times they probably didn’t want to. I was pretty occupied with my own game most of the time and didn’t have much time for anyone else, especially if I wasn’t playing well.

So why am I writing you this letter anyway, just to complain?  Not really.  Like I said, my golfing experience wasn’t that bad.  But it could have been so much better, and I see that so clearly now.  I want to tell you, so you can learn from it.  I don’t want you getting to my age and feeling the same regrets I’m feeling now.

I wish, I wish.  Sad words, I suppose, but necessary.  I wish I could have played the game with more joy, more freedom.  I was always so concerned with “doing it right” that I never seemed to be able to just enjoy doing it at all.  I was so hard on myself, never satisfied, always expecting more.  Who was I trying to please?  Certainly not myself, because I never did.  If there were people whose opinions were important enough to justify all that self-criticism, I never met them.

I wish I could have been a better playing partner.  I wasn’t a bad person to be with, really, but I wish I had been friendlier and gotten to know people better.  I wish I could have laughed and joked more, and given people more encouragement.  I probably would have gotten more from them, and I would have loved that.  There were a few bad apples over the years, but most of the people I played with were friendly, polite and sincere.  They really just wanted to make friends and have a good time.  I wish I could have made more friends and had a better time.

I’m inside a lot now, and I miss the beauty of the outdoors.  For years when I was golfing I walked through some of the most beautiful places on earth, and yet I don’t feel as if I really saw them.  Beautiful landscapes, trees, flowers, animals, the sky, the ocean—how could I have missed so much?  What else was I thinking of that was so important—my grip, my backswing, my stance?  Sure, I needed to think about those sometimes, but so often as to be oblivious to so much beauty?  And all the green—the wonderful, deep, lush color of green!  My eyes are starting to fail.  I wish I had used them better so I would have more vivid memories now.

So what is it that I’m trying to say?  I played the type of game that I thought I should play, to please the type of people that I thought I should please.  But it didn’t work.  My game was mine to play, but I gave it away.  It’s a wonderful game.  Please, don’t lose yours.  Play a game that you want to play.  Play a game that gives you joy and satisfaction and makes you a better person to your family and friends.  Play with enthusiasm, play with freedom.  Appreciate the beauty of nature and the people around you.  Realize how lucky you are to be able to do it.  All too soon your time will be up, and you won’t be able to play anymore.  Play a game that enriches your life.

That’s all I have to say.  I don’ really know just how this letter will get to you, but I hope that it reaches you in time.  Take care.

Love, Older Me

NO CRYING PLEASE!

About 4 years ago I bought that Shoemaker book from a used book store.  Inside I noticed Mr. Shoemaker had written a brief salutation and signed it.  I read it and put it on my bookshelf.  About a year later, on my home course, #17, I was chatting with our head greenskeeper, a 2 handicap.  Found out that when Scotty was in college in California his golf coach was Fred Shoemaker!  So I went home, gift-wrapped the book, put it in my golf bag and gave it to him the next time I saw him on the course.  I think he was a little embarrassed.  

[JuliWooli]

3 minutes ago, Double Mocha Man said:

About 4 years ago I bought that Shoemaker book from a used book store.  Inside I noticed Mr. Shoemaker had written a brief salutation and signed it.  I read it and put it on my bookshelf.  About a year later, on my home course, #17, I was chatting with our head greenskeeper, a 2 handicap.  Found out that when Scotty was in college in California his golf coach was Fred Shoemaker!  So I went home, gift-wrapped the book, put it in my golf bag and gave it to him the next time I saw him on the course.  I think he was a little embarrassed.  

So you're not just funny, you're a nice guy.

My dad's the Shoemaker fan and I like that particular book. I also read the other one (Extraordinary Putting) Some crazy drills but fun. He's a little too "find your perfect swing, its there in your subconscious." I basically agree with his concepts but reaching into my subconscious is a little more difficult than finding something consciously on YouTube.

Sorry, on TST.

[Double Mocha Man]

11 minutes ago, JuliWooli said:

...you're a nice guy.

Don't be ruining my reputation on here...

[JuliWooli]

14 minutes ago, JuliWooli said:

 Shoemaker is a little too "find your perfect swing, its there in your subconscious." I basically agree with his concepts but reaching into my subconscious is a little more difficult...

Sorry Mr. Shoemaker,

I must correct this, I was mixing you up with Mr. Timothy Gallwey. Although you are both Inner Game coaches, you have used the latter's formulas and IMO adapted them into cleverly structured instruction. Your main message is for golfers to wake up to all the interferences that are stopping them from playing better and getting more enjoyment out of the game. And self coaching of course.

18 minutes ago, Double Mocha Man said:

Don't be ruining my reputation on here...

Don't forget, Shorty isn't talking to us because of you.

[HoganApexFan]

On 2/20/2021 at 5:25 PM, Shorty said:

You can be as dismissive and passive aggressive as you like.

You came here looking for advice yet the person you want it for does not want it and by your own admission would scoff at it.

I am still wondering why, with a handicap difference of less than 2, you think that you can't play competitively with him.

Also, we are supposed to be saddened at the fact that the poor chap last won a senior championship in the dim dark past of 2018?

My heart bleeds for someone whose "swing is free flowing and he can still get round easily to his present handicap." of 5

What on earth are you actually searching for.

Shorty,  Sorry for not replying earlier regarding your succinct assessment of the OP and responses, especially to your remarkable insight.  My son and I both play to a 12, but can easily sway both ways by several strokes, especially if we are playing on 3+ consecutive days.  Regardless, those days have always been the BEST days of my life, and my son doesn't even care whether I shoot in the 70's or upper 80's (although I care).  OTOH, my worst round of golf playing with my son is still better than my best round under any other circumstances, and will always be!!!  I kinda-sorta thought that's the best part of being a golfer for life...

Keep the Faith,

JimmyD  (Semper Fi)