My favorite continuing education is golf lessons. Every summer, I take a rack of lessons down at HainsPoint.
Last Sunday I went to my first makeup class, as I hadn’t been able to make my normal time. We’re in the middle of a good process, but this time I have a new teacher I’ve never met before. Not only that, none of the students in the makeup class knew the instructor.
Charles had some different ideas. The first few times I attempted a new motion usually produced a foozle (a highly technical golf term I learned from a caddy in Scotland. Don’t ask…).
I quickly decided my most productive response was to say “Thank you,” and then repeat what I was about to do. Sometimes I would get it wrong, or he would have a further clarifying comment, but we both knew what I was attempting.
After I shanked one very much, Charles said “Next week, be sure to tell your regular instructor Henry taught you that.”
After an hour, my ball striking was much better. The teaching was taking hold.
It could have been my imagination, but I noticed that the teacher was paying more attention to me with my “Thank you, and now I’m gonna…” routine than to the guy two stalls down who kept saying he didn’t want anything bad to happen to to his golf game due to makeup instruction.
By the end of the hour, I was hitting farther, and bending them at will, and making trick shots, it was a great lesson. I told Charles/Henry about the improvement and stayed to hit another 30 balls.
The guy who didn’t want his game changed huffed off, said he had wasted an hour, and was quite loud about his stupidity.
I figured out the guy at the front of the room needs love too.
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