Dutch success

Sam is keeping his word. He left on Monday evening for the Netherlands to play the Riverwoods Junior Open. In the first round, he shoots a sterling par to place 14th. He takes advantages of the par fives, birdying one and eagling another. "I could have done better if it hadn't rained so hard over the final four holes," he says. But he sounds excited and happy on the phone. There are three rounds to go.

Not enough

It is not enough. Although he is ranked sixth, the national federation decides to take the boy who is ranked seventh because he is a year younger. Sam is crushed.

This evening, I leave for work to Madrid.

When I arrive, I give him a call and ask how he feels.

“OK, I’m just going to have to get my revenge in the big tournaments this summer,” he says. “I’ll have to prove they made a mistake.

In the coming weeks, Sam will be playing at the Dutch International, the English Boys and the British Boys. We’ll see if he can keep his vow.

Last Chance

Sam rushes from a final exam in history to play in the Belgian National Championship. He knows this is his final opportunity to make the Belgian national team. He is ranked sixth and still has hope – if he plays well.

The first day is mediocre – five over par 77.

Tee time for the second round is early in the morning 8 a.m. We rise at 5:30 a.m. and drive an hour to the course, which is located in eastern Flanders. I will caddy. Sam struggles at the beginning and is four over at the turn. He then gets two birdies on holes 10 and 12. But he falters coming in and finishes four over par at 76.

This is good enough to make the cut, putting him 36^th. But it is not sparkling.

On the final day, 36 holes are on the menu. Again, a 5:30 a.m. start is required. Sam is solid on the first round. The putting lesson with Phil Kenyon is paying off. But he is not hitting the ball well and giving himself enough opportunities for birdies on the par five. He finishes the morning at plus four again, a bit disappointed.

In the afternoon, he still is not hitting the ball with authority. But he is sinking putts on almost all holes and he is birdying the par fives. He gets to the turn in even par. He birdies the next par five and on the 16^th hole, he almost drives the hole, chipping to within seven feet and sinking the putt. Although he bogies the 18^th, he finishes one under par, beating all his direct competitors for the Belgian national team. Altogether, he is a respectable 19^th.

He displayed a newfound maturity on the course. Even though he didn’t hit the ball well, he managed the course and scrambled for his best round of the year. “I did everything I could to make the team,” he says on the ride back home.

Putting Trip

Throughout the spring, Sam has sruggled with his putting and his nerves. While he continues to resist seeing a sports psychologist, he is more than willing to visit a putting psychologist.

“The best putting coach in Europe is Phil Kenyon,” his coach tells him.

Sam does some research and finds that Kenyon works out of Southport, England.

“Where’s Southport?,” I ask. It’s near Liverpool, Sam tells me, and we begin to plot how to get there. There are no flights between Brussels and Liverpool. There is a flight to Manchester, but its expensive. We decide to go to Scotland, drive south, and turn it into a golf weekend.

In Southport, we find a fading Victorian summer resort. Phil Kenyon works out of a small office in back of a row house. Could this be Europe’s putting mecca? Yes, it is.

Within a few minutes, Kenyon has analyzed what’s wrong with his putting stroke – and with his mental approach to putting. He checks his eyesight and shows that he is left eye strong, requiring him to stand over the ball at the front of his head. Wielding a sophisticated computer, he shows Sam how his stroke is too left to right and needs to be more straight back and straight though. He also works on his breathing and his “attitude” when he stands over the ball on the green. Sam gets a putter fitted for him and he no longer has any excuses.

Sam leaves understanding what was going wrong and he has a path to work on the problems. It was the first time that he was given such a clear explanation of his putting woes.

Beyond putting, Kenyon impressed He spoke clearly. He dissected Sam’s problem and explained how to fix it with concrete solutions. By the end of the lesson, I believe Sam has not just gotten a lesson in putting, but a lesson in how to tackle many tough problems in life. Get good data. Analyze the problem. Work hard – and be optimistic.

In the afternoon, Sam and I discovered that the Southport area is sprinkled with great links golf course after links golf course. Royal Birkdale, home to the British Open, looks magnificent, but costs almost 200 pounds a round. Hesketh, less spectacular, but still terrific, is our budget choice and we are delighted. I play terribly and lose a dozen or more balls.

But the next day, we play a lovely course called Formby Ladies. Formby also has a distinguished men’s course, but the ladies’ one is cheaper and uses the same terrain. I play a lot better, shooting a proud 77.

Sam is two over until the final two holes when he loses his concentration. Playing with Dad is just not a serious pursuit, like competing in a real tournament. His putting is not perfect. He still pushes a ton of balls right of the hole. But he also sees to be gaining in confidence on the greens. “I feel like I know what to work on now,” he says afterward.

The next day, we board the plane in Scotland and spot two Belgian touring pros, Guillaume Wattremez and Pierre Relecom. They were returning from the Challenge Tour event in Macdonald Spey Valley in northern Scotland.

"Where were you?," they asked.

"Seeing a putting coach," Sam responded.

"Oh, Phil Kenyon," Relecom answered, without hesitation. "He's the best. A real guru. He doesn't just teach you about putting. He teaches you about psychology."

So Phil, watch out. You may be getting a call from Relecom.

First Signs of Success

Sam played this past weekend in the King’s Prize on the Empereur Course. It is one of the “majors” of the Belgian amateur season. He was excellent in his first round.

For the first time this year, I saw smile coming off the course. He had a two over par round and was eighth in the tournament. He didn’t struggle. He hit the ball well. “If I only putted a little better, I would have been well under par,” he said.

The next day, Sam had to play 36 holes. I watched the first nine holes and it was instructive. He hit the ball much better than his playing partners. On the first hole, one boy hit into the water and took a triple bogey seven. The other missed the green with his second shot and took a five. Sam hit two perfect shots – and three putted for a five. On the second hole, he made another three putt. His playing partners kept missing the fairway, but scrambled for pars. By the turn, Sam was four over and his playing partners were two under and par.

Sam shot 77 and 78 to finish 19^th.

Parental Pride

I was in Paris the other day dining with a friend who has been reading this blog. She said she found my words “hard” on Sam. I was surprised. The last thing I wanted to be was “hard” on my fantastic, first born son. I am proud of him and thought my words shine with parental pride.

But I also can understand how even the slightest criticism – meant to be realistic or constructive – could be misconstrued. Sam has had a tough start to the golf season. He is putting too much pressure on his young shoulders. But I am more proud of him than ever before.

He just brought home his second semester grades from school. They are his best ever, with an average well over 8 out of 10. (For those Americans used to grade inflation, let me tell you that 8 out of ten at the European School of Brussels is one hellavu score)_

He is so excited about attending university in America and I am beginning to believe the tender loving care exhibited in my dealings with Davidson make it a more appropriate place to build confidence than my arrogant, impersonal alma mater Yale.

And when it comes to golf, Sam is not giving up. He is practicing harder than ever, determined to improve.

Shooting from Scotland

I'm proud of Sam.

He has been struggling on the course, fighting a fade in his shots and a lack of confidence in his shot making. His coach has corrected the swing sickness. When he manages to string together a strong run, however, Sam has failed to finish with panache, missing the cut in his last two big tournaments.

This past week, he traveled with the Belgian national junior team to Scotland to play in the Scottish Youth Championship. Its being played on a British Open qualifying course called Montfieth, a few kilometers from Carnoustie. On the phone, Sam told me it was a "true links."

In the first round, he shot a competitive 78. "I made some mental mistakes - it could have been much better." While a year ago, he would have called the round disastrous, this time he felt he had a fighting chance to make the cut.

In the second round, he teed off late and the wind was blowing hard against him in the first four holes. He began with a series of catastrophic holes that left him six over par after only four holes. Instead of giving up, though, he fought back, scoring back to back birdies. But on the next par five, he had to wait for a while lost his concentration and missed a short put. He struggled with his putting in the next few holes, but finished with a sparkling eagle on the 18th. It was too little to salvage the tournament - his 79 - left him failing to make the cut.

When Sam last went to Scotland, he easily made the cut in the Scottish Boys tournament. But what is encouraging is his attitude. On the phone, he called the round his "best yet mentally." Despite the horrendous start, he didn't give up. He fought. He broke 80. He sounded proud of himself, and he should be. If he has confidence, the results will follow.