You know what the happiest animal in the world is? A goldfish. You know why? It’s got a 10-second memory. Be a goldfish. — Ted Lasso
I don’t play much golf. When I do, it’s when my dad is in town. He shoots his age (78). I shoot double mine (52). He was recently here. We played and watched the Masters where he pointed out how I looked a lot like Scottie Scheffler, the now two-time Masters champion. On the 10th hole of his third round, you could see the resemblance. Scheffler’s third shot flew past the hole into the galley. He rifled the fourth past the hole on its way back toward the fairway. It was now a good distance further from the cup than a minute ago. He proceeded to misread his bogey putt, ending his misery with a double bogey. Scheffler went on to bogey the next hole and dropped from first on the leaderboard to fifth. Yes, I looked just like that on my last round. But here is where Scheffler and I differ. After a hole like that, I’d have been apoplectic, seething with self loathing. Scheffler was not. He kept moving. Head up, he sauntered to the next hole as if he had no awareness of what just transpired.
The ability to compartmentalize is useful not only to become the Masters champion, but also to become master of your day. In this way, golf is a nice approximation for life. The best golfers in the world will always have horrible shots and dreadful holes. The winning ones are often those who recover rather than continue in a downward spiral of one bad shot after another.
It’s easy to think of regular days that went just like Scheffler’s atrocious 10th hole. Getting pimped in front of distinguished faculty at Grand Rounds and whiffing (it was Sweet Syndrome). Calling a patient to let him know that his syphilis test did in fact come back positive (it was his father on the phone, also Mr. Rodham). Arguing with a patient that a biopsy was not needed for me to diagnose her with zoster (you’ve lost once, you’ve lost your temper). Each of these made me feel like slamming my club down, quitting the round right then and there. Losing control though, leads to flubbing the next question or arguing with the following patient. The masters let it go. Like goldfish, they live in the present without any thought of what happened 10 seconds ago.
We don’t have to take advice just from Ted Lasso here; there is plenty of research to support this concept of the critical relationship between resilience and psychological flexibility. Specifically, flexible cognitive control allows us to guide attention and to choose appropriate appraisal and good coping strategies. Ultimately, this leads to better performance. You might be a skilled athlete or presenter, but if you can’t regulate your emotions and something goes wrong, then you’ll perform as poorly as an amateur.
Scheffler went on to eagle the 13th hole on that round. He eventually won the 2024 Masters Tournament. Remember that the next time you find yourself in a day that feels like it is spiraling toward disaster. Close the door on the compartment that was the last miserable hole and saunter to the next patient like it never happened.
And maybe close the clubface a bit on address for your next drive.