What this teaches me is that heart overrides technicality behaviour on the moment of success.
My favourite player of all time – Sir John Daly. I loved watching him. Not because he was perfect. Because he was real. He hit shots nobody else would try. He played with his guts, not a manual.
And here's my catch: my last teacher wouldn't allow me to say it or act it.
So I played the worst golf ever – trying to be perfect in his way. I gave up smoking. I gave up drinking. I took the swing off plane every time I dreamt up a shot. Wasn't there anymore.
I also realised something else: 0.0 ball striking means you're actually looking at stealing a perfect swing – instead of playing a shot that needs to be produced in different ways. You're not playing the game. You're trying to copy a number. And the game doesn't care about your numbers. It cares about the shot in front of you.
I just should've given up then, and gone to play with tune-ups. Not told I can't play like that anymore.
Heart beats technique every time. In the moment of success, it's not your mechanics that carry you – it's your belief, your instinct, your willingness to trust the shot you see.
Trying to be perfect in someone else's way is the fastest route to losing yourself. The swing isn't the problem. The permission to swing freely is the problem.
0.0 ball striking isn't a goal. It's a cage. You don't need a perfect swing. You need the right shot for the moment.
You can give up everything – smoking, drinking, the creative shot – and still not be enough for someone who doesn't want you to be yourself.
Go play with heart. Go play with the joy you had before someone told you it wasn't good enough.