We seem to associate this quality with winning and success, in general. In many cases, it’s a big factor. No risk, no reward. We’ve probably all heard that saying.  In business, that attitude is practically a virtue. In golf, though, it should be used sparingly, because the negative outcome will usually be disaster. Now, be honest.  How many times have you been standing over your ball on a par five, about to hit your second shot, with 220+ yards to the green, over water?  And how many times have you taken the shot, knowing that the club you have in your hand will yield that perfect result only a fraction of the time? Why do we do it?  I say “we”, and not “you”, because I’ve done it too.  Guilty as charged. How about those times when you have 160 yards to a tucked pin on a difficult green that’s protected by water or severe bunkers?  Do you have the discipline to aim for the middle of the green, take your two putts, and get

Before I mislead you, I’m not talking about four-ball competitions, scrambles, or anything similar.  Golf is a game of solitude.  When it comes time to hit the ball, there’s no one there to help. “So exactly what are you talking about”, I can hear you asking. Have you ever played team sports?  Football (either kind)?  Baseball?  Hockey?  Basketball?  Rugby, lacrosse, or volleyball?  Let’s forget for a moment that those sports require teams simply to play the games.  Let’s instead turn to what team dynamics mean for an individual and then we’ll get back to golf. I played team sports through childhood and on through my 20′s.  One thing that I always liked about it was the camaraderie.  I was an individual, but I was never alone.  There was always someone else there to help me achieve my best or to take up some slack when I was in a slump.  I always did my best because I never wanted to let the team down. One of the drawbacks to solitude is struggling to be 100%

Back in June, I did a post about what separates the best from the rest, a look at what elevates tour pros above scratch (or better) players. With that always in the back of my mind, I was recently reading Johnny Miller’s book, I Call the Shots while I’ve been recuperating from surgery. There’s a chapter in there about players that could give Tiger Woods a run for his money. The book was published in 2004 with most of the information current thorough 2003, but one of the players mentioned was David Duval. It mentions his decline after winning the British Open in 2001, but I think Miller and most everyone else figured he’d eventually turn it around. That had me thinking: what can cause such a radical decline for a player of that caliber? Duval was the number one player in the world in 1999. He shot a 59 in competition. He won a major. He had several other top 10 finishes in majors. He won 13 events on Tour. This year, he made