The Golf Tip That Changed My Game Forever (Even Though I Never Really Played)

 

 

Every year back in my corporate days, Kohl’s would host an executive golf outing — a big annual event that brought together store leaders, district managers, and a few celebrity guests. It was part team-building, part charity, and part test of patience for those of us who didn’t actually golf.

I was one of those people.

I didn’t own clubs. I didn’t watch golf. I didn’t even like golf. But attendance was what you might call a command performance. So each year, I’d borrow a set of clubs, pull on a polo, and try to look like I knew what I was doing.

And each year, I was the last pick when the teams were chosen — the “token” player every foursome had to carry. Still, in some strange twist of fate, the team I was on almost always placed first or second. One year, I even won Longest Putt. Nobody was more surprised than me.

The outing that stands out most was the year I actually learned how to hit a golf ball — not dribble it two feet off the tee like usual. That’s because our special guest that year was Steve Stricker, the PGA Tour pro and Kohl’s national spokesman at the time. He was young at the time, a local up and comer , super nice guy.

Steve was as down-to-earth as they come. No ego, no flash — just calm, steady, professional. Between holes, he’d join each team for a few swings, offering tips and encouragement. When he got to ours, I was still smarting from another embarrassing tee shot.

He watched me swing once, smiled, and said something that I’ve never forgotten:

“Visualize a giant steel hoop running from the ball, up over your head, and back down behind you. Now slide the club along that hoop. Don’t try to hit the ball — just let the ball get in the way of the club.”

That single image changed everything.

I lined up again, pictured that invisible hoop, and swung. This time the club glided through, smooth and natural — and the ball took off straight down the fairway. I couldn’t believe it. From that point on, I could actually hit the ball, and my teammates started using my drives — which was a required rule in our shotgun-style tournament.

It became a running joke every year: the guy who didn’t golf but somehow helped his team win.

Looking back, I realize that Steve’s advice was about more than golf. It was about letting go — trusting the motion, not forcing the result. The same lesson applies to business, leadership, even life: when you stop over-gripping the club, things start to flow.

But here’s the truth — even though I finally learned how to hit a ball, I never caught the golf bug. Why spend all that time and money trying to knock a little ball into a hole, when I could be at a flea market finding a treasure and making money?