Page 13 of Sweet Spot
Shifting awkwardly, I wonder if I made a mistake coming here without calling first...or just coming at all. I’m winging it, and I hate winging shit.
“I took a look at the videos from yesterday and thought it might be useful if I could sit with the boys and talk them through what I see.”
“Yeah, of course.” He gives me a weird look. “I don’t have the budget to pay for another day.”
I hold up a hand. “No, of course not, and in fact, I’m crediting you back for yesterday. We’re friends—or, at least, we used to be. I just want to help. They seem like good kids, and like I said yesterday, I really appreciate that you’ve been such a big supporter of my business. I should have offered long before you reached out.”
“All right, don’t get too soft on me or I’ll think too hard about why you’re being so accommodating. The truth is that I don’t care why. I need all the help I can get. Practice isn’t for a few hours still though.”
I nod. “I figured. Uh, one other thing. Do you think it would be okay if I offered my services to anyone that comes by today?”
His brows furrow. “You mean like a public clinic?”
“Sure. To anyone. Not all my clients are competitive athletes, you know?”
“Yeah, I don’t see a problem with that. Just tell me what you need.”
Mark and I drag a table and three chairs outside and he erects a sunshade over me while I setup my laptop.
I’m actually a little disappointed I didn’t think to do this yesterday. Yeah, it takes more time, but it’ll be easier to provide specific and hopefully helpful feedback when I can show them exactly what I mean on the video.
It’s slow for the first hour. A handful of people come by the course, but only one is interested in help.
Lou is a retired Valley professor who, according to him, is trying to figure out what to do with his days now that he’s no longer teaching. He’s a nice guy, and I enjoy chatting with him, but I cringe as I watch his swing back on the screen. There are so many problems that all I can do is help with his setup and grip. Feels like a shallow victory when he masters that and heads off to the driving range.
Mark let his team know I was here again today, so they drop in early, which is nice since I’m twiddling my thumbs and triple guessing being here.
As I suspected, showing them slow-motion clips of their swings gives them a better understanding of what they are doing wrong and where they can improve. The real challenge comes from their ability to change habits that have been ingrained with thousands of golf balls. But it’s a start.
I’m finishing the last review when she arrives with a few other girls she was with last night. Her eyes narrow in confusion and she slows her pace. The girl to her left, Erica, I think, says something that Keira waves off.
I meet her halfway.
A small smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. “You’re back.”
“So are you.”
She tilts her head toward the girls she walked away from. “We have practice in fifteen minutes. What areyoudoing here?” She looks past me to my tent setup and smirks. “Another clinic with the boys’ team?”
“No. Well, yes, but not them exclusively. It’s a free clinic and it’s completely open to the public.”
“The public?” Her voice lifts an octave while she puts it together. A slow smile spreads across her face.
“Maybe you could let thepublicknow? What time is practice over?”
“Five.” She’s still looking at me as if she maybe doesn’t believe I’m for real. “You’ll still be here?”
“I’ll still be here.”
The hopeful and pleased look she gives me makes my day seem not quite so wasted.
As the girls’ team heads off to practice, the driving range gets crowded with locals. I’m too busy to watch the time pass, but two hours later, the Valley U women’s golf team starts to fill my line. Though Keira is nowhere in sight.
I’m helping the first one of his players, when Coach Potter storms over. “What’s going on here? I thought I said I didn’t want you offering your services to my girls?”
The young girl in front of me, a freshman named Clarice, wilts in his presence.
“It’s a free swing review. What could it hurt?”
