When the Next Tournament Isn’t the Next Step

Clara played in her second golf tournament this past weekend, and in some ways, it felt completely different from the first. This time, she played 18 holes, we were trying a different tournament organization, and all of us had a little better idea of what to expect, what to pack, and how the day would go.

And yes, after the missing-glove adventure at her first tournament, there were now two golf gloves safely tucked inside Clara’s bag. What can I say? We learn as we go.

From the moment we walked up to the check-in table, we all felt a little more at ease. The tournament was at Longleaf Golf & Family Club, where Clara recently started taking group lessons through the U.S. Kids Golf Academy. We already knew our way around the clubhouse and practice area, and I think that familiarity helped settle some of our nerves—or maybe just mine.

But the whole atmosphere felt different, too. There was more chatter and movement around the clubhouse. Families were talking with one another, some of the kids were warming up together, and others were running around and playing before it was time to head out. Many of the people helping run the tournament were also familiar faces from Clara’s lessons, and they greeted the kids and families with the same cheerful, encouraging personalities we’ve gotten to know at the academy.

I’m not sure if it was the familiar setting, the people, or simply a combination of everything, but it felt very family-friendly. There wasn’t the same quiet seriousness we had experienced at Clara’s first tournament. This time, everything just felt a little lighter.

But for all the ways this tournament felt different, some things hadn’t changed.

Clara was still the smallest girl out there. Growing up, my mama always told me, “You ain’t bigger than a minute,” and looking at Clara, I have a feeling that may be one thing she inherited from me.

Once again, the pairing felt a little uneven—not because anyone had done anything wrong, but simply because the two girls seemed to be at very different places in their development as golfers.

After warm-ups, we headed toward the 10th tee, where Clara would be starting her round on the back nine. Paul and Clara had played a practice round here the week before, but this was my first time actually seeing the course. So Olivia and I got our first introduction to the hills—and boy, were there a lot of them—and the first of four tunnels we would walk through that day.

Over those first few holes, there were some really good shots and some not-so-good ones. Clara hit several beautiful drives off the tee, and a few of her iron shots reminded us just how far she’s come with her new clubs. The hybrid was another story. Sometimes she connected with it, and sometimes she didn’t, which made those longer holes even more challenging. But once she got to the greens, she started getting a better feel for the pace of her putts.

The night before the tournament, we were sitting around the dinner table when we asked Clara if she had any goals for the next day. “I want to get another birdie,” she said.

And I should probably mention why she said another.

During her practice round at Longleaf earlier that week, Clara made her very first birdie—ever! She had come home so excited, and I hated that I had missed seeing it in person. So naturally, after getting a little taste of what a birdie felt like, she was ready for another one.

Paul’s goal for her was a little different. He wanted her to play with confidence. He reminded her that she could hit the ball well because she had done it before. She could hit a long drive because she had done it before. And yes, she could make another birdie—because now she had done that before, too.

Clara had one other goal: stay out of the bunkers.

During that same practice round, she had landed in a greenside bunker on hole 14 and struggled to get out. She eventually finished the hole with five strokes over par. Paul admitted that one might have been partly his fault. As Clara approached the bunker during the practice round, he had told her not to hit the ball into it. Of course, sometimes the thing someone tells you not to do suddenly becomes the only thing you can think about. Paul joked that maybe he had put the bunker into her head before she ever hit the shot.

So he promised that during the tournament, there would be no talk of not hitting into bunkers. And for the most part, it worked. Clara managed to avoid them almost the entire day.

Almost.

When we reached hole 15, she hit a great drive off the tee, and her second shot landed just short of a greenside bunker. The bunker sat directly between Clara and the green, leaving her with a tricky little chip over the sand.

She took her swing, and you can probably guess where the ball went.

Right into the bunker.

During the practice round, it had taken Clara four tries to get out of a bunker. This time, she stepped in, took her swing, and got the ball out on her very first try. And, of course, this is the shot I somehow didn’t get on video. Still, we cheered. She may not have accomplished her goal of avoiding every bunker that day, but getting out of the only one she landed in on her very first try felt like a pretty good win.

Somewhere between the back nine and the front nine, we even managed to squeeze in a little dance break. It was sunny and hot, with very few clouds in the sky, and our feet were starting to hurt—but we were having fun! And we may or may not have been thinking about the ice cream waiting for us at the end of the tournament.

Hole two on the front nine proved to be Clara’s biggest challenge of the day. Standing on the tee and looking straight uphill, we immediately pulled out our favorite Home Alone reference: “Wow! What a hole!”

Clara started off with a great drive, but the ball landed on the upslope of the steep fairway. With distance already being one of her biggest challenges, it took several more shots to work her way up the hill and close to the green.

Then came the chips.

Her first was a little too strong and sailed over the green. On the next one, scared to hit it long again, she barely caught the ball, sending it only about three feet in front of her. By the time she finished the hole and walked past Olivia and me toward the next tee box, I could see tears in her eyes. She was disappointed in herself and knew she hadn’t played the hole the way she wanted to.

As we walked to the next tee, I reminded her of something we’re still trying to help her learn: it was just one hole. It was over, and she couldn’t change it. But if she carried that frustration with her to the next tee box, one bad hole could very easily turn into two or three—or even four.

So we talked about starting over. New hole, new tee box, new opportunity. I even reminded her that she still had holes left to make that birdie she wanted so badly.

Moments like this are one of the reasons we want Clara to spend time actually playing golf and not just hitting balls on the range. The range gives her a place to work on her swing, but the course gives her a chance to work through everything that comes with it—the bad shots, the frustrating holes, and learning how to leave one behind before starting the next.

By the time Clara finished her last hole, we were all hot, tired, and very ready for that ice cream we had been thinking about since somewhere around the turn. There were only two girls in Clara’s age group that day, so Clara finished second and came home with a medal.

But before Paul and I decided how we felt about the day—or what should come next—we really wanted to know how Clara felt about it.

Later, once we had a chance to talk about the tournament, we asked her some of the same questions we usually do after she plays. What did she like? Did she have fun? What was hard? Was there anything she felt like she learned?

Her answers gave us a chance to hear the day from her perspective instead of looking at it only through ours. And that matters to us, because as much as Paul and I are trying to figure out this whole junior golf world, ultimately, Clara is the one playing.

When we first started looking at tournaments, I think we pictured them much like games in any other youth sport—a chance for Clara to get out there and play alongside other kids her age who were learning the same game. What we didn’t understand yet was just how wide the range of experience could be, or how competitive junior golf can become even at a young age.

We’re learning that there are girls Clara’s age who have been playing much longer, taking private lessons, and competing regularly. And then there’s Clara, who is still relatively new to all of this. She’s learning new clubs, working through swing changes, and figuring out what works for her one practice and one round at a time.

And we’re okay with that.

We’re not trying to turn Clara into a tiny LPGA player. We’re not in a hurry to see how quickly she can move through the levels or how many tournaments we can put on the calendar. Of course we want to see her improve, and if trophies and medals happen to come along the way, we’ll happily celebrate those, too. But more than anything, we want her to enjoy playing golf. We want to give her the time to build a solid foundation, gain confidence in what she’s learning, and grow into the game at her own pace.

Because right now, fun still matters—a lot. If Clara enjoys being on the golf course, she’ll want to keep coming back. She’ll keep practicing, keep asking questions, and keep learning. We never want better scores to become so important that we take away the very thing that made her want to play in the first place.

So for now, we’ve decided to hold off on signing up for another tournament.

Not because of the number Clara wrote on her scorecard. And not because we think she has to reach some certain level before she belongs out there. We simply think she’ll get more out of her next tournament if we give her a little more time to become comfortable and consistent with the clubs she’s still learning to use.

We saw glimpses of that during this tournament. There were holes where things came together—where she struck the ball well, made smart choices, and played the way we know she can. Right now, those moments just aren’t happening consistently for an entire round. And after only a little more than a year of playing golf, we don’t expect them to.

There’s no deadline.

We’ll keep practicing. We’ll keep playing nine holes together as a family. She’ll keep going to her junior programs and learning from the people who have been generous enough to invest their time in her. And when another tournament feels like the right next step, we’ll try again.

Until then, there’s plenty of golf to be played without a scorecard that has to be turned in at the end.

“For who has despised the day of small things?” (Zechariah 4:10).