It was in fourth grade when I started playing golf frequently. I would always run off into my backyard, drop my ball in the giant divot I usually play from, and start hitting the ball towards my golf flag. It was just a hobby at the time. I wasn’t super serious about trying to go to tournaments, nor was I trying to become like Tiger Woods. I just wanted to play the game. As fifth grade came along, I learned that there was a high school golf team. I never really set goals in my life at the time, but it had finally came to the point where I set one: to make the golf team when I enter high school.
I took a pretty long hiatus from golf during middle school. I just lost in touch with the game, and was more interested in just staying in my room playing video
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I kept telling myself “I should have practiced more”. I didn’t feel confident at all, but when I actually played, things turned out in my favor for the most part. During the first day of tryouts, I already knew I was doing something right as the coach said, “Atta boy Jey!”. That day I shot a 58, which was already the best I had done the year before. The second day of tryouts was atrocious, weather wise. With a combination of rain and chill, it really tested everyone who was playing that day. Out of nowhere, I shot amazingly, ten strokes lower than I did the previous day. I felt great, I was almost sure I would make the team at this point, but I didn’t want to jinx anything. I shot a 55 the next day, which kind of lowered my spirits, but not so bad as I was feeling defeated like the year before. On the final, and probably most important day of tryouts, it was like I had practice the whole day before that tryout. I shot a 43, which amazed everyone, and got me a place on the team. I felt unstoppable. I already was envisioning myself getting a hole in one the next day. Everything was in my