Facing fears, finding moments of triumph, and staying the course. On my first golf tournament.
The alarm buzzed at 4:00 a.m., marking the start of my first golf tournament experience—a day I had been eagerly anticipating and quietly dreading was finally here. I dragged myself out of bed, got dressed, and started brewing the coffee I knew I’d need to get through the early morning. As I loaded my clubs into the car, I took one last sip, hoping it would settle my nerves.
The drive was a long one—three hours through thick, unrelenting fog. At first, I felt unsettled by the lack of visibility, but as the miles passed, I realized the fog kept my mind from wandering too far into worry. Instead of replaying worst-case scenarios, I turned on a golf podcast to distract myself. But as the course grew closer, the nerves came roaring back.
Early Morning Nerves Before the First Tee
When I finally pulled into the parking lot, it all became real. My stomach churned, and my hands felt unsteady. After finding the bathroom and looking around the course, I headed back to the car to try to ground myself. Sitting in the driver’s seat, I closed my eyes and whispered affirmations: You’ve practiced. You’ve earned your place here. Just focus on the first shot. It helped, but only slightly.
Deciding to jump into the nerves rather than fight them, I grabbed my bag and headed to the cart area. As I got my things situated, I realized I needed a shuttle to reach the range. That simple act of boarding the shuttle felt like another test. I felt the eyes of strangers on me, sizing me up. I tried to remind myself they were probably just as nervous as I was.
The driving range
It was crowded and buzzing with tension. I started with chipping, which went surprisingly well, giving me a sliver of confidence. But when I moved to the mats, things unraveled. My first few swings with the driver were toe shanks, and I couldn’t seem to get the ball airborne. The negative self-talk started creeping in, but I forced myself to keep swinging. By the end of the session, my last two drives were solid—smooth tempo, good ball flight. I clung to those shots as I headed to the putting green, focusing on my routine and the speed of the greens.
Finally, it was time to meet my cart partner, who immediately put me at ease with his friendly demeanor. We chatted about where we were from and what brought us here, and his welcoming attitude helped me feel less isolated.
Then came the announcements, and we were off. My cart partner drove us to the first hole—a 195-yard par 3 over water. My heart pounded as I watched the first player shank his ball about 30 yards. I felt for him, but it also eased my nerves a bit. My hands were still trembling as I grabbed my 5-iron.
The Mental Game: Calming First-Tee Jitters on first golf tournament
I knew what I wanted: a solid shot to start my first golf tournament. I went through my routine—deep breaths, a steady setup, and smooth practice swings. With shaky hands, I took the club back and swung. The ball flew high and true, landing on the back fringe of the green. Relief flooded through me. The shot that had haunted me all morning was behind me.
Watching my two competitors hit their approach shots close to the hole, I felt a surge of confidence as I walked to my ball. My chip was downhill and about 20 paces—exactly the kind of shot I had been practicing. I took my time, breathing deeply and visualizing the shot. When I struck the ball, it landed softly and rolled out, coming to rest about four feet from the hole—almost exactly how I’d imagined it.
Standing over the putt, my hands were visibly shaking again. I focused on my breathing and stuck to my routine. The strike was weak, and for a moment, I thought I’d left it short, but the ball kept rolling—and limped into the hole. I made par. A way better start than I could have dreamed.
Turning Setbacks into Strength: Embracing Challenges with Resilience
The nerves didn’t completely vanish, but I felt a little lighter as we moved to the second hole, a par 5. My approach shot put me on the green in regulation, but my putting faltered. A timid first putt left me well short, and I missed the four-footer for par after pushing the next one past the hole. A bogey.
The next hole, a par 3, brought even more frustration. A four-putt for bogey left me shaking my head. It became clear that while I was striking the ball well, my putter wasn’t showing up. On two separate holes, my mental strength failed me completely, leading to poor decisions and poorly executed shots that caused double bogeys.
Still, there were bright spots. My competitors were friendly and supportive, cheering each other on and commiserating over struggles. Their camaraderie helped me stay grounded and reminded me that we were all in this together.
By the end of the round, I carded a 94—a score I wasn’t proud of but could accept for my first tournament. The course was tricky, with plenty of blind shots and hazards that punished even small mistakes. I hit plenty of solid shots, but my putter never gave me a chance to turn those into a great score.
Lessons Learned from My First Golf Tournament
After turning in my scorecard, I chatted briefly with the tournament officials, who handed me a free hat—a small consolation for the day’s challenges. I drove to my hotel, exhausted and hungry, and settled for pizza at a nearby spot.
Back in my room, I took a long shower, letting the heat ease the tension in my shoulders. I laid down on the bed and reflected on the day, journaling my thoughts. The nerves, the triumphs, the frustrations—it was all part of the experience. I texted my wife to check in, making sure the kids were doing well. We exchanged “I love yous,” and I promised to call after tomorrow’s round.
With the TV on in the background, I tried to get to bed early, knowing day two was just hours away. Despite the struggles, I felt a sense of pride. I had faced my fears, stayed mentally strong for most of the day, and found gratitude in the process.
Tomorrow would bring new challenges, but for tonight, I let myself rest.