The Humility Lesson: Why Playing Out of Your Depth Makes You Better

I’ve been around professional golf long enough to know that the sport teaches you more about yourself than any therapist ever could. But here’s what strikes me most after 35 years covering the tour: the golfers who improve fastest aren’t always the ones winning tournaments. They’re the ones willing to get uncomfortable.

The piece we’re looking at this week touches on something fundamental that gets lost in all the noise about handicaps, swing mechanics, and leaderboards. It’s about what happens when you’re the worst player in the group—and why that might be the best thing that could happen to your game.

The Tour Teaches, But So Does Humility

I caddied for Tom Lehman back in the ’90s, and I remember watching him at practice rounds with players like Nick Price and Greg Norman. Tom wasn’t always the best player on that particular day, but he was always learning. He’d study their tempo, their club selections, the way they managed pressure. That observational skill? That’s what separates good golfers from great ones.

What resonates most from this article is how practical it is. The author doesn’t sugarcoat the intimidation factor—it’s real. But the advice cuts straight to what separates amateur hour from actual improvement:

“Don’t play slow. This is rule number one. If you can do this, you’ll be just fine. You may be hitting more shots than they are, so efficiency is key.”

This is elementary, but it’s also where most recreational golfers fail. I’ve watched countless amateurs struggle in mixed groups not because they can’t hit the ball, but because they’re so consumed with their own anxiety that they become oblivious to the group’s rhythm. Pace of play is the great equalizer in golf, and it’s the one thing completely within your control.

The Psychology of Playing Up

What the article really nails is the mental framework. Notice it doesn’t tell you to “just relax” or “have fun”—that’s amateur hour advice. Instead, it offers specific strategies rooted in golf psychology:

“Know when to pick up. If you’re not in a tournament, keep pace with the group. That might mean occasionally picking up your ball and moving forward to stay in position.”

In my experience, this is where the growth actually happens. When you give yourself permission to pick up, you remove the pressure that often causes worse scores in the first place. It’s counterintuitive, but I’ve seen it work at every level. You’re no longer playing for validation; you’re playing for improvement and experience.

The author also understands something about competitive golf that many never grasp: knowing the right moment to engage. Golf is unique in that socialization is built into the format, but timing matters enormously.

“Waiting on the group ahead or walking off the green toward the next tee are great opportunities to connect without slowing play.”

I’ve interviewed hundreds of tour players over the decades, and the ones with the best attitudes about being in mixed groups or lesser fields are invariably the ones who understand that golf is as much about human connection as it is about scores. They don’t view a “down” day as a threat to their ego; they view it as an opportunity to teach or learn.

The Real Lesson: Effort Over Appearance

Here’s where I’ll stake my own position after three and a half decades watching this game: the article’s final point about using better golfers as motivation isn’t just motivational fluff. It’s the actual mechanism of improvement in golf.

I’ve noticed that the best players are usually the ones who work the hardest. It looks effortless because they’ve earned it. That’s not just true on the PGA Tour—it’s true at every level. When you watch great golfers work, you see process. You see discipline. You see someone who’s already made peace with what they can and can’t control on any given day.

What I think this article is really arguing—whether intentionally or not—is that golf’s real value isn’t in your handicap. It’s in what you’re willing to learn about yourself when things aren’t going your way. The golfers I’ve known who played alongside better competition consistently reported the same thing: they improved faster, and they enjoyed the game more deeply.

A Note on the State of Amateur Golf

I’ll be honest—in my years covering the sport, I’ve watched amateur golf become increasingly pressure-laden. Everyone’s got a launch monitor, everyone’s tracking their stats, everyone’s comparing themselves to content they see online. There’s this creeping sense that every round has to “count.”

What we’re missing is exactly what this article is advocating for: the freedom to play for growth rather than outcome. To accept that some days you’re the student, not the teacher. To understand that the best rounds of your life often happen when you stop keeping score and start keeping watch.

I’ve been fortunate enough to cover the Masters fifteen times, to walk the fairways with some of the greatest golfers ever to play the game. And you know what I’ve learned? The ones who stayed hungry, who remained willing to be uncomfortable, who could view a mediocre round as information rather than failure—those were the ones who lasted. Those were the ones who kept improving.

Golf has a way of humbling you. The question is whether you’ll let it teach you something worth knowing.