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Gary Player Pens New Book – Don’t Choke

Dec 2, 2009 | Filed Under: General News | Comments: 9   Share

After a short hiatus Mr. Player has ventured back into the publishing arena with his upcoming book Don’t Choke (expected release date April 2010).  Don’t Choke is in essence a book about pressure; what it feels like, the fact that everyone feels it, how to deal with it in the most critical situations and ultimately, how to master it.  Mr. Player will relate his experiences and discuss times where he overcame pressure and when he did not and what he learned from those situations.  He will also discuss how to pick yourself up after failure, how to overcome fear and how to succeed under pressure - in golf, business and life.  Having won 18 Major championships, (9 on the PGA Tour and 9 on the Champions Tour) and 164 tournaments world wide along with designing more than 300 golf courses on five continents Gary Player has quite a bit to talk about when it comes to the subject of pressure.  Dr. Bob Rotella, the renowned sports psychologist and author of numerous best selling books about creating an attitude and a mindset about all aspects of a golfer’s game, from mental preparation to competition, will author the foreword.

Mr. Player is excited about the project and has found that going back in time to recall his most pressure packed situations has brought back a flood of great memories and life lessons.  His ability to speak candidly about his failures has added the most critical teaching element to the book – failing once does not mean that you will fail again.  In fact, it leads to greater success.

Below is a short excerpt from the book:

I was coming to the end of the 7 252-yard monster that is Carnoustie in the 1968 British Open. The wind was howling. In that final round, Billy Casper, Bob Charles and myself were tied for the lead at two under par, and there were five of us within one stroke of the lead. And before me the par-five 14th hole unfolded like 483 yards of sheer green monster that it can be.

On that day, this was a golf course in a mean mood. It was not going to give up on trying to grind us into the dirt, and this was the hole that could do it to you.  I stood at my drive, wrestling with the decision as to whether to go for the green with my second shot and try and carry the fearsome Spectacles bunkers, or play safe.

I was hitting the shot blind. Jack Nicklaus was my playing partner. He had just hit a brilliant recovery, and was pushing hard to win this one. He, as well as a host of other players, would pounce on the first mistake I made, and that would be it.  I reached for a three wood, stood over the ball. Now came that moment. That moment when the entire world condenses into a dimpled little sphere at your feet. When everything you are, and hope to become, crushes down upon you in the confined arc of a golf swing.  And you want to know what was going through my mind.

It’s simple, really. I saw a nine-year-old boy sitting on a bench in the freezing cold of a winter’s morning in Johannesburg, South Africa. He is waiting for a tram to take him across town, where he will then walk across town to catch a bus as part of a long journey just to get to school. It’s still dark, and he sits on that bench alone. His father is working deep in the gold mines. His mother has passed away from cancer. His older brother is far away fighting a World War. His sister is at boarding school. His only friend is an elderly black gentleman called John Mashaba, who makes him breakfast and dinner in the evenings, when he returns home to a dark house.  And as he sits on that bench, the boy says to himself, “Someday, I’m going to be a world champion”.

When I stood over that three wood, “Someday” had arrived. It arrived again as it had done at four Major Championships before this one.  I hit possibly the finest shot of my life right there, and the ball finished three feet from the hole. I holed the eagle putt for a two-shot lead over the field, which I managed to hang on to and go on to victory.

Over the years, I’ve heard people say, “That Gary Player was certainly lucky in his career”. But if it was just luck, how come I kept doing it? And how come Nicklaus kept doing it? And Ben Hogan, and Sam Snead, and now Tiger Woods? It’s not luck. It’s being able to bring something out of yourself when it’s really necessary, and when it counts. That’s the difference between being very good, a star, and a superstar.

Remember – “The harder you practice, the luckier you get.”

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