David Shedloski
David Shedloski is a columnist for GolfBrief.com. He also writes for PGATour.com and is the author of "Golden Twilight."
Irwin is on the clock
http://www.golfbrief.com/articles/1092/1/Irwin-is-on-the-clock/Page1.html
By David Shedloski
Published on 04/30/2008
http://www.golfbrief.com/articles/1092/1/Irwin-is-on-the-clock/Page1.html
Irwin is on the clock
Hale Irwin hears the clock ticking now. Finally. He can’t deny it, but he can’t countenance it either.
The man who has been king of senior golf, a lord over old masters and lions and champions, has never been more disillusioned with golf than he is at the moment. Everyone who plays the game inevitably gets swept away in an ever-changing dynamic between loving it and hating it. But Irwin has seemed to be able to subdue the second emotion as he has marched on to win a record 45 Champions Tour titles after capturing 20 tournaments — including three U.S. Opens — on the PGA Tour.
That isn’t the case today.
“I’m having as little fun as I’ve ever had in golf,” Irwin, who will be 63 in June, said glumly. “I truly feel like there are only two things left for me to do, and that’s change it or not play. Right now, I can’t seem to be able to change it.”
So he won’t play — not this week anyway. He has withdrawn from this week’s FedEx Kinko’s Classic in Austin, Texas, which says quite a lot about his state of mind. It says that he’s tired — and not just because he long ago passed the mythical 55 speed bump without ever slowing down. But now he’s hit the wall.
“I have never withdrawn from a tournament before in which I wasn’t hurt or injured,” he said.
Irwin’s general malaise reaches far beyond the eight starts that have yet to produce even a top-10 finish. That’s the longest stretch in his Champions Tour career he has gone to start a season without posting at least one top three.
His best effort thus far is a tie for 18th at the Allianz Championship in early February.
Being competitive in golf isn’t an easy endeavor when you’re working off subtraction by addition. Irwin’s stroke average has ballooned to 72.17, easily the highest of his career — by nearly 1.5 strokes. His statistics are average except for putting, which is dreadful; he ranks 72nd in putting average and 75th in putts per round.
But there is more than just disappointment with some fading skills that he is contending with. Irwin’s mother died in Colorado on March 6, and though Irwin returned to competition at the AT&T Champions Classic, his heart was more out of it than ever.
“I think it has affected me more than I thought,” Irwin said. “You think you are ready for something because there is inevitability in it, but you still can’t be fully ready. You never can be, I don’t think.
“I just don’t have a lot of fight in me right now. I could always draw on something, but nothing is working for me right now.”
But he’s not sure how much fun it would be even if he were playing well. Golf is a great escape for a many folks. For a professional of Irwin’s caliber, who knows how good he was and knows how good he still is and can be, it doesn’t offer the same solace. It doesn’t assuage the internal hurts.
It only exacerbates them.
“It’s a painful time,” Irwin admits. “Golf is not a fun thing. So I can’t tell myself I need to go play. What I need to do is be with my family and step back and not make chasing the little ball any kind of priority, because right now it is not a priority.”
People all the time can tell themselves, it’s just golf. And some out there might feel inclined tell Irwin and others who have excelled so wonderfully at it that it’s just a game. And it is. But facets of our lives graft onto us. The best things we do become part of our identity.
When we can no longer do those things as well, little parts of us die inside. And then when true personal tragedy hits, like the loss of a parent or loved one, the sense of overall loss deepens.
Hale Irwin will play golf again because that’s what he does, and it is one of the best things he does. He might be back next week. He might wait a month. But he will be back. He might even find a way to play well, and he might even win.
No matter. It will all be good, because he’s talking like a man who already is coming to grips with the fact that it will never really be the same.
The man who has been king of senior golf, a lord over old masters and lions and champions, has never been more disillusioned with golf than he is at the moment. Everyone who plays the game inevitably gets swept away in an ever-changing dynamic between loving it and hating it. But Irwin has seemed to be able to subdue the second emotion as he has marched on to win a record 45 Champions Tour titles after capturing 20 tournaments — including three U.S. Opens — on the PGA Tour.
That isn’t the case today.
“I’m having as little fun as I’ve ever had in golf,” Irwin, who will be 63 in June, said glumly. “I truly feel like there are only two things left for me to do, and that’s change it or not play. Right now, I can’t seem to be able to change it.”
So he won’t play — not this week anyway. He has withdrawn from this week’s FedEx Kinko’s Classic in Austin, Texas, which says quite a lot about his state of mind. It says that he’s tired — and not just because he long ago passed the mythical 55 speed bump without ever slowing down. But now he’s hit the wall.
“I have never withdrawn from a tournament before in which I wasn’t hurt or injured,” he said.
Irwin’s general malaise reaches far beyond the eight starts that have yet to produce even a top-10 finish. That’s the longest stretch in his Champions Tour career he has gone to start a season without posting at least one top three.
His best effort thus far is a tie for 18th at the Allianz Championship in early February.
Being competitive in golf isn’t an easy endeavor when you’re working off subtraction by addition. Irwin’s stroke average has ballooned to 72.17, easily the highest of his career — by nearly 1.5 strokes. His statistics are average except for putting, which is dreadful; he ranks 72nd in putting average and 75th in putts per round.
But there is more than just disappointment with some fading skills that he is contending with. Irwin’s mother died in Colorado on March 6, and though Irwin returned to competition at the AT&T Champions Classic, his heart was more out of it than ever.
“I think it has affected me more than I thought,” Irwin said. “You think you are ready for something because there is inevitability in it, but you still can’t be fully ready. You never can be, I don’t think.
“I just don’t have a lot of fight in me right now. I could always draw on something, but nothing is working for me right now.”
But he’s not sure how much fun it would be even if he were playing well. Golf is a great escape for a many folks. For a professional of Irwin’s caliber, who knows how good he was and knows how good he still is and can be, it doesn’t offer the same solace. It doesn’t assuage the internal hurts.
It only exacerbates them.
“It’s a painful time,” Irwin admits. “Golf is not a fun thing. So I can’t tell myself I need to go play. What I need to do is be with my family and step back and not make chasing the little ball any kind of priority, because right now it is not a priority.”
People all the time can tell themselves, it’s just golf. And some out there might feel inclined tell Irwin and others who have excelled so wonderfully at it that it’s just a game. And it is. But facets of our lives graft onto us. The best things we do become part of our identity.
When we can no longer do those things as well, little parts of us die inside. And then when true personal tragedy hits, like the loss of a parent or loved one, the sense of overall loss deepens.
Hale Irwin will play golf again because that’s what he does, and it is one of the best things he does. He might be back next week. He might wait a month. But he will be back. He might even find a way to play well, and he might even win.
No matter. It will all be good, because he’s talking like a man who already is coming to grips with the fact that it will never really be the same.