Alright, so today’s session was a bit of a weird one, all focused on what I ended up calling the ‘Grayson Murray last putt’ drill in my head. Not really a drill, more like a stubborn mission I set for myself out on the practice green. Or, well, what passes for a practice green in my backyard, bless its lumpy heart.
The Setup
So, I got out there, sun was starting to dip a bit, which always makes the shadows play tricks on the subtle breaks. I picked this one spot, see? It’s about a 12-footer, downhill, with a nasty little left-to-right break right at the end. The kind of putt that looks easy until you’ve missed it ten times in a row. I told myself, “Right, this is the one. You’re not leaving until this drops, and it’s gotta feel like the last putt of the day, the one that has to go in.”
The Grind Begins
Lemme tell ya, the first, oh, maybe five or six attempts? Not even close. One I pushed way right, another I babied and it died short and left. Frustrating stuff. You know how it is. You stand over it, you feel like you’ve got the line, the pace, everything, and then… nope. The ball just has other ideas.
I started messing with things, as you do.
- Tried gripping down a bit.
- Opened my stance a touch.
- Focused on a spot just past the hole.
- Even switched putters for a couple of strokes, thinking maybe old faithful was having an off day. It wasn’t the putter. It’s never the putter, is it? Or maybe it always is. Who knows.
What Was I Really Doing?
Now, you might be thinking, “Why get so hung up on one putt?” And that’s fair. It wasn’t really about making that specific putt over and over again for stats or anything. The name, “Grayson Murray last putt,” just kind of floated into my head. It made me think about what it means to finish something, to really see it through with intention, especially when it’s tricky or you’re tired or just plain fed up.
I’d had one of those days, you know? Where little things just kept going sideways. The internet went out during an important call, spilled coffee down my shirt, the whole nine yards. So, standing over that putt, it became less about golf and more about just… making something go right. Drawing a line and saying, “This, at least, I’m going to get done.” It’s funny how your brain works. You’re out there trying to roll a ball into a cup, and suddenly you’re having a whole internal monologue about the cosmic injustices of a Tuesday afternoon.
The Breakthrough
So, I kept at it. Taking my time, going through the whole routine for each one, even though I was just in my backyard. Must’ve been on attempt number, I dunno, fifteen? Sixteen? I lost count, to be honest. And then, one just… tracked. Perfect speed, held its line through that tricky little break, and just fell in the side of the cup with that satisfying little ‘clink’. Man, the relief!
It wasn’t like fireworks went off, but it was good. Solid. Felt like I’d actually accomplished the one thing I set out to do, no matter how small.
The Record and Takeaway
So, for the record books, let’s say it took a good 20-ish tries to get that one specific “last putt” to drop. Some were close, many were terrible. What did I really practice? Maybe a bit of putting. But mostly, I think it was about patience. About not just whacking balls mindlessly but sticking with one annoying, specific task until it’s done. Sometimes that’s all you can ask for. That, and remembering to bring a drink out next time, because all that focused frustration is thirsty work. And yeah, I’ll probably do it again. There’s always another “last putt.”
