You have to love it!
Years ago, while needle-tining greens, I asked the employee running the Toro 648 if he could smell the Earthiness as we worked. He replied, “You really love this, don’t you?” This moment often comes to mind because he saw in me what I was starting to understand—I genuinely love my job.
It’s been said that choosing a job you love means you’ll never work a day in your life. Of course, that isn’t entirely true; work is work, and no matter how much you love it, it’ll often feel like hard work. I have found that loving what you do doesn’t make the work easier; it opens space that makes learning and improving easier. This learning and improvement makes you more competent, leading to better, more confident decision-making, which trickles down to everything we do and makes work more enjoyable.
We’ve just finished a golf season unlike anything I’ve experienced. In August, we hosted the United States Amateur championship. On June 23rd, just as preparations for that event were ramping up, we also started construction on a ten-hole short course. Both of these events offered an opportunity for retrospection.
Every experience—good or bad—is an opportunity to improve, and when you genuinely love what you’re doing, you allow yourself the space to reflect on both the good and the bad. I’ll start with an example I’ve written about before.
Following the 2016 season and a successful Ryder Cup, I received what I initially took as harsh criticism toward the amount of sand topdressing applied to greens. In fairness to the critics, we’d topdressed all season long, and there was rarely a day without some sand impacting the surface. In fairness to myself, the 2016 Ryder Cup was my first major event, and that’s what I thought we needed to do to have the greens ready. The greens were beautiful, and in my mind, the ends justified the means.
Nine years earlier, I presided over my first aerification in May 2007, a moment I had eagerly awaited. I had an ambitious plan: plugs would be pulled, and sand would fly. However, I overlooked being under-resourced and endured a week of rain, leaving the greens yellow when we finally worked in the sand. In hindsight, my approach was unnecessary, and the poor weather had been forecasted. Over the years, I recognized the folly of my ambitious process—discretion is often the better part of valor.
Fast-forward to 2024: The US Amateur was played on beautiful putting surfaces that hadn’t seen topdressing or aerification in nine months, and our team flawlessly executed the dual challenges of hosting the US Amateur and building a short course.
Instead of being defensive or wallowing in self-pity, I curiously reflected on these events, seeking ways to improve in the future. My love for the job helps me view tough times as learning experiences that don’t last forever. From this perspective, I can analyze what went wrong and create a better approach.
In conclusion, the journey through challenges and successes has reinforced my belief in the power of passion for one's work. Each experience, whether it presents a setback or triumph, serves as a stepping stone toward growth and improvement. Embracing a love for what I do allows me to transform difficulties into valuable lessons, fostering resilience and adaptability. As we continue to innovate and strive for excellence in our field, we should remain committed to reflecting on past experiences, knowing that this mindset will enhance our capabilities and contribute to a more fulfilling professional journey. Ultimately, this blend of dedication, introspection, and love for the craft makes the hard work worthwhile.