My favorite continuing education is golf lessons. Every summer, I take a rack of lessons down at HainsPoint.
Last Sunday I went to my first makeup
class, as I hadn’t been able to make my normal time. We’re in the
middle of a good process, but this time I have a new teacher I’ve
never met before. Not only that, none of the students in the makeup
class knew the instructor.
Charles had some different ideas. The
first few times I attempted a new motion usually produced a foozle (a
highly technical golf term I learned from a caddy in Scotland. Don’t
ask...).
I quickly decided my most productive
response was to say “Thank you,” and then repeat what I was about
to do. Sometimes I would get it wrong, or he would have a further
clarifying comment, but we both knew what I was attempting.
After I shanked one very much, Charles
said “Next week, be sure to tell your regular instructor Henry
taught you that.”
After an hour, my ball striking was
much better. The teaching was taking hold.
It could have been my imagination, but
I noticed that the teacher was paying more attention to me with my
“Thank you, and now I’m gonna...” routine than to the guy two
stalls down who kept saying he didn’t want anything bad to happen
to to his golf game due to makeup instruction.
By the end of the hour, I was hitting
farther, and bending them at will, and making trick shots, it was a
great lesson. I told Charles/Henry about the improvement and stayed
to hit another 30 balls.
The guy who didn’t want his game
changed huffed off, said he had wasted an hour, and was quite loud about his
stupidity.
I figured out the guy at the front
of the room needs love too.
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