SINKING THE PUTT: Treat Your Presentation Like a Game of Golf!

When I was a kid, my dad decided I was going to be a golfer.  As he explained, golf was a game that would pay off for in me in the business world someday.  Besides, I was long and lean and athletically inclined, and, according to my golf pro, looked like I belonged on the cover of Sports Illustrated.  And as I whacked ably away at the line of balls he teed up for me, and watched them arc into the distance, I half believed him.

But practice was one thing; playing was another.  Whenever I actually played 9 holes of golf (18 was reserved for grown-ups), it was a whole other story.  Time after time, I’d slice that darned ball into a bunker, or the rough, or an inch away from my brother’s head.  More often than not, and especially under pressure, those potentially hole-winning putts drove me to my knees.  The more I tried to beat the guy next to me, or hit a hole-in-one at every tee, the more frustrated and disappointed I became with my performance.  No amount of post-game ginger ale and crunchy grilled-cheese sandwiches at the 19th hold could take away the sting of a tough game. 

After a while, I decided the only way to play golf was to pretend I was practicing and to work on each shot as it came up.  I noticed I played better when I made a decision about what I was going to concentrate on that day—as in “today, I’m just going to focus on staying relaxed while I putt.”  That allowed me to leave each game feeling like I’d been successful at realizing my very specific intention, even if I didn’t beat my boasting brother.

Years later, I used the same general principle to help me better my abilities as an actor—a principle reinforced by my greatest acting instructors.  “Pick something specific to work on each time you run through the scene,” they’d suggest.  “Work on something tangible– like listening well, or staying fully connected to your fellow actors moment by moment.”  Concentrating on a specific action allowed me to focus on something I could control in an otherwise out-of-control situation.  And it kept me from focusing on things that could pull me off my game, like the critic scribbling away in the third row.

It all came full circle the other day, as I worked with a new coaching client who was struggling with the anxiety that popped up every time he turned his attention to an upcoming presentation.  When I suggested that every time he work on his presentation – in rehearsal and even when he finally delivered it–he try focusing on a simple, specific, doable action or intention, he practically leaped out of his chair:  “That’s what I do with my golf game,” he said. “Every time I play, I pick one thing I want to improve, and then I focus on it!”  We then launched into a spirited conversation about the practice of golf as it related to the practice of speaking. And he left the session intent on applying that same principle to his presentation, feeling sure it would work for him.

I had to smile:  My dad was right about those golf lessons.  They really did pay off!

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