THE GAMES BEGIN

ECCO Tour | Bravo Tours Open | Romo . Denmark

Romo is a small island located off the coast of southern Denmark. Travel from Palm Springs to Romo took 36 hours and consisted of a 9-hour time change, 3 flight connections, an overnight at London Heathrow, an overnight at Billund airport and a 3-hour rental car drive from Billund to Romo. Other than one brief moment of panic, as my tools of the trade were late to arrive at baggage claim, traveling was the easy part of what lay ahead.

I arrived in Romo a couple of days early in order to acclimate to the local time, study the course and, due to inclement weather, to play what would be my one and only practice round on my first-ever, authentic links-style course.

Since every single day in Romo was cold and windy, we can pick a hole, any hole, and conditions can be categorized as a new experience. On one hole in particular, it was teeth-chattering, finger-numbing cold and the wind blowing off the sea was howling at a constant 20-30 mph out of the left and the right. I started an eight-iron thirty yards to windward, but a gale caught it; I watched in dismay as the ball sailed hard right, hit the green going sideways, and bounced off into the cabbage. My simultaneous thoughts were son-of-a-bitch and you've got this! I didn't know then that these two recurring thoughts would play a loop in my head throughout my two-day tenure.

There's no sugar coating that resistance and self-doubt tried to lay-up in my psyche on every tee-box, fairway, bunker and green; but one thing I've learned from playing competitive golf, is not to deny the feelings, as that serves only to create a whole new set of problems. Best to let them in and let them pass ~ as quickly as possible. I truly believe a healthy dose of self-doubt serves as a reminder of my aspiration. It reflects the passion and love I have for competition and reminds me of the privilege I have been bestowed to pursue my goal of being a contender in the arena of competitive golf. Don't get me wrong, while I don't deny the feeling, I do try like hell not to give resistance or doubt any control over my grip or swing.

I pieced together the best game I could, with the skills I had for the conditions in play on those first two days. As we all know, scores don't tell the whole story, but this tournament proved to be an ass-whooping of generous proportions. Notes were taken. Lessons to be learned. Time to move on.