Golf Yourself Sober
“Don’t let your past dictate who you are, but let it be a part of who you will become”
I have concluded that, attempting to pinpoint the exact moment in time when my love affair with Golf started is as complicated, as it is superfluous. Similarly, trying to understand which of my illnesses came first - alcoholism or depression and anxiety - is equally unnecessary. Ultimately, what I do know is this. Golf is Good for me. Alcohol is not.
The Open road to sobriety
I imagine that, to most avid professional Golf fans (especially those of a British persuasion), The Open is the alpha and the omega. To either watch it on TV, or better still to attend it in person, is an experience like no other. It is perhaps to Golf, what Wimbledon is to Tennis. I know from having attended Wimbledon in the flesh, that events such as these almost always live up to the hype. Though I have never attended The Open in person, I am nonetheless hopelessly captivated every time the event adorns my television set.
Over the years, I can think of several memorable iterations of The Open, which have been imprinted in my memory. One of my earliest memories is from 1999, when my fellow Aberdonian, Paul Lawrie, claimed an unlikely victory at Carnoustie. Back then, at the age of 13, I held only a notional interest in Golf.
Fast forwarding to 2016 - and by which time, my obsession with Golf was truly starting to come to the fore - I remember placing a small bet on Henrik Stenson to win the 145th Open at Royal Troon. Much to my delight and surprise, Stenson emerged victorious from an epic battle with Phil Mickelson, in an enthralling tussle which has to go down as “one for the ages”.
However, when the 148th Open called in at Royal Portrush in 2019, the stakes were much higher, both for me and for that year’s winner, Shane Lowry.
On Sunday 14 July 2019, just as Shane Lowry was gearing up for one of the most important moments of his career, I was staring down the barrel at one of the darkest, yet most hopeful times of my life.
It was on this day, 5 years ago, that I decided that that my relationship with alcohol was over.
A Shot in the Dark
Growing up in a country which is famed for its drinking culture, my relationship with alcohol first began at the age of 15. Funnily enough, I remember my first drink more vividly than I do my first ever round of Golf.
As I’ve shared before on the GYH podcast, my childhood was such that I grew up with many insecurities and a deep yearning for a sense of belonging, wherever I could find it. When I first tasted alcohol, it served to “give me wings” as they used to say in the Red Bull adverts. It gave me a new found confidence to hold conversations, to network and blend into my surroundings.
However, as I got older, what had started out as a relationship with beautiful chemistry, soon turned into a sour affair. The more I drank, the less I recognised myself. Drinking was no longer fun, it was actually proving to be increasingly dangerous for my mental and physical health. In the latter days of my drinking, my state of mind had become so dark, that I became attracted to the thought of the world being better off without me.
At my lowest ebb and with my personal relationships and professional productivity suffering increasing collateral damage, I took some time off work and sought medical advice. My GP diagnosed me with Depression and Anxiety and prescribed me with medication to tackle it. As for my drinking, I enrolled in a 12 step recovery programme and started to work through my illness.
Looking back on that time in my life and in the first few weeks of my recovery, I found happiness and joy almost impossible to come by. I remember being petrified to get out of bed each day, let alone leave the house. However, I remember one thing in particular being my saving grace: watching The Open on television.
Soothed by the dulcet tones of Sky Sports’ Ewen Murray and feeling somewhat smug at the sight of Golfers and spectators alike being battered by the biblical weather conditions at Royal Portrush, I watched from the warm comfort of my sofa and felt a sense of solace.
I especially recall how, over the opening 2 days of the tournament, Rory Mcilroy flip flopped from the ridiculous to the sublime, carding a 79 in his first round, followed by a 65 in his second round, agonisingly missing the cut by a stroke.
Playing in his home country and on a course he’s known from a young age, you could tell how much the occasion meant to him. I will never forget the interview Rory gave with Tim Barter, after missing the cut. Seeing someone of Rory’s stature show such vulnerability and emotion gave me a strange reassurance, at a time when I too felt overwhelmingly vulnerable.
As for Shane Lowry, I marveled at how he navigated his way around Royal Portrush that weekend. Despite treacherous weather conditions and the pressure of an army of adoring fans overlooking him, he slayed the course in the most improbable fashion.
What I found most striking, however, was the sight of him partying the night away in Dublin on the Sunday night after his win. Part of me felt envy at how he could party like that, without relative fear of consequence or remorse. Another part of me felt relieved to know that I didn’t need to keep up appearances anymore. The game was up and so was my drinking.
You have to Embrace the Rough, before you can Cherish the Fairway
Looking back and as I celebrate 5 years of continuous sobriety, I feel immensely grateful for how my life has transformed for the better since I quit drinking.
I try never to regret the past, for I believe that my darkest moments have taught me the greatest life lessons. My past motivates me to continue on a path of self improvement.
I also reflect on how my relationship with Golf has evolved and benefitted from my sobriety. I remember a time when I felt the need to drink whilst out on the Golf course, in order to control my nerves and to play my best Golf. I now realise, that I was simply masking a deeper rooted issue. Through working on myself by healthier means, such as exercise, diet and therapy, I am able to bring a calmer, more composed version of myself to the Golf course.
When I tune in to watch the world’s best Golfers tee it up at the 152nd Open at Troon this week, I will do so from a much healthier and psychologically stable vantage point, than I did this time 5 years ago. For that, I feel truly blessed.
