For 30+ years, I wondered if I could do it. I’d sell myself on outs like I’d rather play in amateur events, or I don’t need it anyway, or who cares. Haha. But, in the back of my mind, I wondered. Did I have the game, the mental fortitude, the commitment to practice to get my game to a place where could get it done?

Last June, I embarked on a journey to become a PGA Class A member. This means taking 3+ levels of courses, plus… taking the dreaded PAT. I heard horror stories. Some guy took it 40 times. I know someone who tried 23 times and never passed. I know good players who shot in the 90’s. I also know players who passed with ease. Where would I fall? I haven’t played in a serious competitive golf tournament since 2007. There’s a great story behind this last golf tournament, but I’ll save it for another day. Instead, I opted to turn my competitive fire towards endurance sports – marathon running, triathlon, etc. The training took some serious discipline, and the competition hardened me. When I played competitive golf, the nerves would get me. In endurance sports, the nerves would get me in the beginning, but after a while, not so much.

Ironically, one day I was standing in the registration line at Ironman Augusta – a 70.3 (mile) half Ironman race. For those keeping score, that is a 1.2 mile swim, a 56 mile bike ride, followed by a 13.1 mile half marathon run. I used to call that “5 hours of fun”. Anyways, I’m walking around with my brother and you see bikes that cost 10 grand, M-dot tattoo’s, veins popping everywhere, race shirts from all over the planet – easily a place where one could get psyched out. As we’re standing in line, he says to me, “Look around. We’re gonna beat 90% of these blowhards.” We both started laughing, but 24 hours later, he turned out to be right. I finished in the top 8%. In that moment, athletics became more about me vs. me than me vs. anyone or anything. What could I accomplish? In 2013, I stood on the starting line at the Boston Marathon with the top 2-3% of marathon runners in the world. Making matters worse, runners are seeded by their qualifying times, and I was in the first wave. The top 8000 in any age group in the world. And me. The nerves? They went to someone else. I didn’t get them that day, and I haven’t since. When I tore my Patella in my left knee in a race in 2017, I wondered what was next. I spent 2 years trying to run, but I ultimately ended up having surgery in 2019, which effectively put a stop to my running career. What was next?

Clearly a return to golf. That, I could still do. I love the solitude of an 8 mile run when I’d get home from work. I’d run 8 miles in an hour in training. Phone was on my desk. No headphones. Just me and the pavement. Now, I live on a golf course. I swapped running shoes for golf shoes and golf clubs and I walk a 4 hole loop on the golf course many nights. My phone? it’s still on my desk. It’s just me and the trees and the birds. Sometimes we’re happy, sometimes we’re not. On one of these “loops”, I pondered what was next to enhance my career, and when I settled on the PGA, the thought of the PAT hit me hard.

Could I? Well I’d have to find out if I was going to do this PGA thing. I registered. Now I was committed. I passed the Q-level. I should look for a PAT. I found one in Buffalo, NY the following week. I called and set up a practice round. The golf course suited me. I shot a stress free 73 – 15 pars, a birdie and 2 bogeys. I went to register, and the event was closed. I waited a day too long. What to do? I could still register as an Associate Member because my handicap was low enough, so I did. I started the course work and eventually finished level 1. What to do about the PAT?

I was confident that I could pass it at the Buffalo Tournament Club, so should I wait and see if they have one next year (meaning this year), or try it someplace else? I decided to put all my eggs in one basket and wait. I had no alternative plans. I had a year to practice. I played some, hit some balls in the winter, etc. Starting on May 1st, I made a commitment to play or practice every day for the 2 months leading up to the event. Some days, I just hit 10 balls or rolled some putts in the basement. Lots of days I played 4 holes. But I did something every day. I played three 18 hole rounds and maybe four 9 hole rounds. That’s it. But I played a lot of 4 hole loops. I putted everything out. I worked on my short game. A LOT.

The PAT is 36 holes in one day. It’s a grind. A player needs to shoot at or under a target score to pass. A player doesn’t need to shoot the lowest score he can, he just needs to finish under the target score. As such, the target score can become the focus and odd things creep into a players mental game as a result of the process. The target score is 15 strokes over the course rating X 2 rounds. In this case, the course rating was 70.1, so 140.2 plus 15 = 155. A 78 and a 77 and I pass. Doesn’t sound so bad… 36 holes in one day sounds bad, but I broke it down – realistically, if I hit 18 greens and have 18 2-putts, I’ll take 36 full swings and 36 putts. Over two rounds, that’s 72 full swings. That’s not even a large bucket of balls spread out over 9 hours. That, I can handle. It became much more apparent that the mental grind was going to be the tough part. What if I play with someone who shoots two rounds in the 90’s or worse and I spend all day looking for his ball? What if we grind it out for two 5+ hour rounds? What if the guys I play with are really good? What if, what if, what if… I knew I could only control what I could control. That meant I needed a plan.

My plan was simple. I wanted to try to hit as many fairways as I could. Hit it to the middle of every green, and try to make 2-putt pars all day long. I figured if I could make 27 pars, I could figure it out on the other 9 holes.

Game day. Up at 4:30, out the door at 5:00. I have an hour drive and a 7:16am tee time. Weather was cool for July, but there was a threat for rain. Not good, but we can deal with it. Rain softens the greens, so it’s easier to stop the ball. That’s a win as long as it’s not a downpour. I see a couple guys I know on the range. We’re not playing together, but it was good to see some familiar faces. The nervous tension was almost funny. I literally felt nothing – just another round of golf.

I met my playing partners and all three were good guys. Easy par on one. Nice to get that one behind me. I hit it over the second green in two and it landed on a tree root. I had no shot and had to pitch out onto the opposite side of the green. I had a VW buried in the green between my ball and the hole. 3-putt double. I told myself, I’m not gonna be that guy… Bogey on 3. Par on 4. Bogey on 5. Helllooo?? Anyone home? Just make a par, Dumbass. I parred 6, birdied 7, parred 8 and 9. I turned in 39. Could have been worse, I guess. I played 2 practice rounds and an additional 9 holes – 72, 73, 36, and this was the worst 9 holes I played on the property. I can do better. My thought was on Tournament day, I’d probably shoot 4-5 shots higher per round due to nerves, pace of play, pin positions, whatever… I made 6 straight pars on the back nine (missing a few short birdie putts), then another 3-putt double on 16. Followed that up with a birdie on 17 and a par on 18. 37 on the back nine for 76 in round one. All in, it was about as bad as it could have been. 2 bad swings cost me a double each time. Yet, I was still 4 over par for the day in comfortably in the drivers seat to get this thing done.

We had a 15 minute break and then we headed out for round 2. I made a couple bogeys on the front nine and turned in 38. Then my brain got in the way… As I would learn, THIS is the challenge of the PAT. A parallel. In endurance sports, your brain goes to fantasy land when you are depleted of sugar, are exhausted, and just sick of being out there. Your mind can’t do simple math… I just passed the 22 mile marker, so I have 4.2 to go. If I run those in 7 minute miles, that’s 45 minutes. No. That’s not right, it’s 18 minutes. Oh add that quarter mile, Shit. There’s the 23 mile, marker. How fast am I running? What do I need to qualify for Boston? I ran a 3:17 in Cleveland and was seriously surprised. I thought the clock was wrong because my math was so off. Haha. Anyways, as I stood on the 10th tee, I thought I’m 6 over on the day, I can make 9 bogeys on the back nine and still make it. Good thinking… I hit a lousy tee shot on 10, missed the green and made bogey. On 11, I hit an 8 iron over a par 5 in two and didn’t get it up and down. It felt like a bogey (it was a par), so I told myself I was 2 over on this side. 3-putt bogey on 12. Missed the green on 13, didn’t get it up and down. As I walked to the 14th tee, I said Wait a minute… it’s 15 shots over the course rating, not over par. The course rating is 2 shots less than par. I had 5 shots to play with on the 10th tee, not 9 – and I’m now 4 over on the back nine. Uhh. You have 1 more bogey to make it on the number. Giddy up!! COME ON!! 14 was a par 5. I hit driver & a hybrid to pin high. I pitched on the green and 2 putted for par. OK. I missed the green on 15, but hit a nice pitch and rolled in a 6 footer to save par. I looked at the card on the 16th tee (breaking a cardinal rule of mine), but I realized I was only 3 over, not 4 over. 11 was a par – a crappy one, but a par that I counted as a bogey because it felt like one. I proceeded to hit the same ugly tee shot on 16 that I hit earlier in round one. I played the same shot, but got it up and down. Made par on 17. I was standing on the 18th tee knowing that I had two shots to play with. I pulled a 3 wood and hit it over a FW bunker on the left. I caught the downslope and went about 290. I was 50 yards short of the green. I hit it to 12 feet, cozied one up there to about a foot and tapped it in. 39 on the back nine for 77 in round two. 153 for a two round total, and I made it by 2 shots.

The feeling was exhilarating afterwards. It took me a couple hours to come down from that feeling. Looking at it objectively, shooting 76, 77 on that golf course was not great for me, but on that day, it was good enough. The guys I played with were great. I hope they all find a pathway to complete their PGA Journey. I can rest easy knowing that for 30 years I wondered, and I was one for one, and more importantly, one and done. I feel like I learned how to play golf that day. I played defensively for sure, but I played to not make mistakes. I made a couple, and only two were really costly. I told a PGA Professional about the PAT, and I mentioned that I wasn’t really trying to make birdies. I was playing to make pars. He said, “what birdies aren’t good enough for you?” We laughed, but I that day, I didn’t need them. I wanted 27 pars. As I drove home, I added it up in my head. 25 pars and 2 birdies. 2 doubles and 7 bogeys. It all adds up to 9 over.

If the PAT happens to be in your future, I’ll offer you some unsolicited advice. Make Pars – as many as you can. You don’t need low scores. You don’t need big scores either. Anything under the target score gets it done – doesn’t matter if it’s 15 sots under or on the number – both scores = pass!! Have a game plan and stick to it. Draw from other things in your life and experiences where you were successful at overcoming a stressful situation where your nerves could have led you astray. Have confidence in your ability and your game plan. Finally, don’t think of what’s at stake. If you play well enough, that will take care of itself. Thinking about it only adds to the pressure. One shot at a time.

Fairways and greens. Stop to listen to the birds. Walk once in a while. Thanks for reading.

jy