Commit

I took care not to slip on the shiny paved step up to the ATM machine to draw some cash. It had been raining heavily and there was still a light drizzle in the air which kept the surrounds particularly wet and slippery. The plastic studs of my golf shoes, whilst built for good grip on the turf, were finding dangerously little purchase on the paving stone, and with dodgy ankles at the best of times, I walked gingerly whilst holding onto the three step hand rail for support.

It was not only my balance which was consuming my attention, as most of my mind seemed on high alert at the same time. Did I lock my car properly? Is my cell phone safely tucked away deep into my pocket? Is the ATM operational in that it won’t swallow my card? How much cash do I really want to draw?

Is anyone watching me?

I edged closer to the screen to cover any possibility of prying eyes trying to read my pin code. The thought that they would have had to be on a three-meter ladder to look over my shoulder hadn’t entered my mind. There might be someone on the roof of the filling station – you can never be too careful. I shifted my gaze to the extremities of my vision, without noticeably turning my head. Stay calm but increase the peripheral possibility of awareness and caution.

Drawing cash from an ATM is more than just a transaction.

A man with a mask stood behind me.

Pre-covid, this would have been cause for heightened alarm, and yet still I felt ill at ease. I made sure again of the position of my cell phone deep in the security of my pocket. I took a firm grip of the cash which was offered up from the whirring machine, and I moved my right hip closer to the counter so as to be able to seamlessly slip the money into the far reaches of my other pocket with my hand firmly clutching the stash like a cast iron paperclip. I would not risk the open vulnerability of moving the cash into my wallet just yet – I would wait for the safety of the car to complete that action.

The man in the mask stepped aside as I walked carefully down the three stairs, and I greeted him politely, but half-heartedly. I hadn’t intended to get into a conversation.

He must have noticed my golf shoes, for he glanced up at the rain filled clouds, through the persistent drizzle and simply said:

“Take an extra club, and commit.”

In that moment I remembered an apocryphal story of a man who noticed his axe was missing from his shed. He suspected his neighbour’s son. The boy walked like a thief, he looked like a thief and he spoke like a thief. But the man found his axe at the woodpile, and the next time he saw his neighbour’s son, the boy walked, looked and spoke like any other child.

I had my own version of the story now, except that the imaginary thief, looked, walked and talked like any other golfer.

I sat in my car and took a fresh tissue to wipe the droplets of moisture off the lenses of my glasses, and I giggled in embarrassment to myself at the irony of that simple act. What I really needed was to cleanse the lens of my own perceptions – and that is a far more complicated journey.

As I stood over my seven iron approach on the first fairway, I reassessed and swapped it for a six. It seemed ridiculous to hit a six iron from 150 metres to a front pin, but I heeded the golfer’s advice and I committed to the shot. It was a sweet strike and sure enough, the extra moisture in the air and the heavy greens saw it land and stop dead, pin high, 12 feet away with a little right to left break.

I wished that man had been next to me to see that shot. I am thankful though that he didn’t witness the putt.

I left it short.

I had failed to commit.

What does ‘taking an extra club’ mean in my own life? Perhaps it is to arm myself with a new skill, or be more prepared for a meeting. Maybe it is to walk with someone in collaboration as opposed to attempting it all myself. It could be to offer just a little more than was expected in all the avenues I walk.

But regardless of the extra clubs I use, I must still commit.

Otherwise I will continue to leave the putts of my life short.

Steve Hall

P.S. Yesterday a great hero of Humanity took his last step on this Earth. The last few steps he took around his garden during lockdown raised 33 Million British Pounds as he completed 100 laps around his garden aided by his zimmer frame before his 100th Birthday last year.

Walk on unaided in Peace Colonel Sir Tom Moore. You are a hero to us all. 3 February

2021.