After a painfully long winter break (this is North Carolina, and although we talk about being able to play year-round, we don’t really mean it), I took my golf game off the shelf, dusted it off, and took it out on the course.

That was two weeks ago. And boy, let me tell you, this spring’s game, compared to last fall’s game, kinda sucks.

During my hibernation, my 87’s had turned into 97’s. Why is that? And what to do? I decided I needed professional help.

So I bit the bullet and got a lesson yesterday. My instructor checked out my swing from various angles, made a few adjustments, gave me some jibberjabber about swing planes, weight shifts, and open stances.

Faithfully applying my instructor’s directives, I went at the ball with a seven-iron. Suddenly I was hitting 20 yards longer. Then my five iron . . . same story. Then the ultimate test, my driver. What was going 160 yards and crooked is now going 200 and straight.

I’ve always heard the best way to screw up your game is to get a lesson. Fortunately for me, that’s not been the case. Today I went out and shot a 41 on the front. And might’ve matched it on the back had I been able to drop any putts. For a grand total of 88. Quite an improvement over the 101 I shot last week.

And what’s the point of this story? Forget what you’ve heard about lessons. I know you men tend to pride yourself on being self-taught, but if your game is suffering, go get one. I can even recommend a good instructor…

Disclaimer: results may vary.

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