I Improve My Own Experience

For about three years, "getting better at golf" meant exactly one thing to me: a lower number at the bottom of the card.

Lessons. Apps. A putter I definitely didn't need. Range sessions squeezed in before work, half-watched swing videos at 11pm. All of it pointed at the same target — break 90, then maybe 85, then who knows.

Here's the thing nobody talks about: the harder I chased that number, the less I actually wanted to go play.

I wrote the Golfeaser Manifesto. I've talked about Principle #1 more times than I can count. And it still took me embarrassingly long to notice that Principle #2 — I Improve My Own Experience — doesn't say what I'd quietly been assuming it said for about a decade. If you've read my about page, you know I've made bigger mistakes than this. But this one cost me actual Saturdays.

What Does "Improving My Game" Even Mean?

For most of us, it starts innocently enough. You shoot a string of rounds in the high 90s, someone mentions a drill that supposedly fixed their slice overnight, and suddenly you've got a project.

There's nothing wrong with a project. Working on your game can be genuinely satisfying, and I'm not about to tell you to put the 7-iron down. But somewhere along the way, "working on it" turned into the only thing that counted as a good round for me. If the score didn't move, the day hadn't mattered.

Which is a strange standard, when you actually look at it. According to the USGA, the average Handicap Index in the U.S. is around 14 for men and close to 29 for women — which lines up with scores mostly in the low-to-mid 90s. "Good" is relative, and most of us are a lot closer to "normal" than we'd ever admit standing on the first tee.

I'm not totally sure why, but the week I finally broke 90 for the first time, I could barely tell you anything else about that round. Between work and kids, I'd been saving up months of range sessions for that one number — and once I had it, the round itself was already a blur.

Then Something Happened

A few months later, I played one of the worst rounds of the year. Three-putted twice. Hit one so far right it ended up near the cart return by the clubhouse. Lost the Nassau, lost the back-nine skins, lost a side bet on closest-to-the-pin that I wasn't even supposed to be in.

By any scorecard measure, it was a write-off. Mike still brings it up first when anyone asks about our season — "remember the parking lot?" — and that's it, we're gone for five minutes, every time.

Something happened that day that had nothing to do with my score. Something changed in how I thought about what a "good round" even was.

It wasn't a swing thought or a new grip. It was just — that was a great day. Genuinely one of the best I'd had on a course all year, and my card said otherwise the whole time. Which is, when you sit with it, exactly what Principle #7 is actually about — not that your score is one round away from turning around, but that your next great day always is, regardless of what the card says.

That's also when the side bets started mattering more than the main game — not because we stopped caring who won, but because the games were where the actual stories lived.

So What Does "I Improve My Own Experience" Really Mean?

Here's the plain version: Principle #2 isn't about your handicap. It's about the round, the group, and the day getting better — not just the number on the card.

That's not me being soft on competition, by the way. It's closer to what the data actually says about why people play. According to the National Golf Foundation, the social side of golf consistently ranks as the single biggest reason people play — ahead of the mental and physical benefits, and well ahead of competition for most golfers. In the same research roundup, NGF's president put it about as plainly as it can be put: most golfers' shared thread is "the camaraderie of being with other people who enjoy the same activity."

So "improving the experience" isn't a consolation prize for people who can't improve their swing. For most golfers, it's the actual point — we'd just never said it out loud.

And it connects straight to Principle #6 — I Make My Foursome Better. A lot of "improving the experience" isn't even about your own day. It's making the round better for the three guys you're playing with too. A new game, a better tee time, a tradition that gives everyone something to look forward to — those upgrade four experiences at once, not just yours.

I'm not sure I'd have noticed this on my own, but during our regular Saturday game, Jim pointed out that none of us could remember our scores from two weeks ago — but every one of us remembered exactly which hole Dave lost the bet on. That's why we keep showing up, if we're honest, more than any handicap goal ever was. There's something almost psychologically backwards about how much more we remember the moments than the math.

🧭 What "Improving the Experience" Looks Like

  • ⛳ A new game or side bet instead of the same Nassau every week
  • 🗺️ A course you've never played, even if it's twenty minutes further
  • 🤝 One tradition your group actually looks forward to
  • 🏆 One shot, bet, or moment from the round you'll actually remember by Monday

Does This Mean I've Given Up on Getting Better?

No — and this is the part people sometimes get wrong about Principle #2. It's not anti-improvement. It just stops "lower score" from being the only thing on the scoreboard.

If you genuinely want to work on your game, that's still a fine thing to want. There's plenty on this site for that, including smarter ways to play without rebuilding your swing, which honestly did more for my scores than any of the technical stuff ever did. The difference now is that it sits alongside the experience side, not above it.

Some of the best "experience upgrades" cost nothing and have nothing to do with technique. Mental games that make the round more fun work because they shift what you're paying attention to. Building one small tradition with your group works for the same reason. Even something as simple as how you carry yourself when you're playing badly — there's a reason earning your group's respect has almost nothing to do with your handicap.

From what I've noticed, the rounds where I'm quietly working on one small thing — tempo, or just hitting more fairways — tend to be the rounds I enjoy most anyway. Playing with the same foursome, that one small thing becomes its own quiet thread through the day, win or lose. The scoreboard and the experience aren't actually competing. I'd just never let them both count before.

What to Carry Into Your Next Round

If you take one thing from Principle #2, make it this: at the end of your round, you get to ask two questions now, not one. "What did I shoot?" is still allowed. But so is "what's one thing about today I'll actually remember?"

Some weeks the answer to the second question is a shot. Most weeks, honestly, it's a person, a bet, or a moment that had nothing to do with golf at all — and that's just as worth bringing up at the 19th hole.

Fellow Golfeasers who've been doing this a while will tell you the same thing: you're always just one round away from one of those days. Not necessarily your best score. Just a great one.

If that's useful, read the rest of the Manifesto — and if you'd like more of this in your inbox, Join the Golfeasers. I send these out most weeks, and I read every reply.

FAQ: Principle #2 — I Improve My Own Experience

What does "I Improve My Own Experience" mean in the Golfeaser Manifesto? It's Principle #2 — the idea that "getting better" at golf isn't only about your handicap. It means the round, the group, and the day get better too, not just the number on the card.

Does this mean I should stop trying to lower my score? No. It means your score stops being the only measure of a good round. Alongside it sits a second question: did you enjoy it, and did the people you played with?

What's a normal golf score for a weekend golfer? Based on USGA data, the average handicap is around 14 for men and close to 29 for women, which works out to scores mostly in the low-to-mid 90s. If you're "stuck" there, you're not behind — you're average, and average is most of us.

What if my regular group isn't great for the "experience" side of this? Start with something small you control — one new game, one new course, one tradition you suggest. Setting realistic expectations for the round (and for your group) tends to do more than people expect.

What's one small way to try Principle #2 this weekend? Before you tee off, decide that one moment from the round — a shot, a bet, a conversation — will be "the thing" you remember, regardless of score. Then notice whether that changes how the round actually feels. Most Golfeasers who try this say it does, even if they're not totally sure why.

More for Fellow Golfeasers

Johnny - the creator of Golfeaser

Johnny is a 25-year weekend golfer who's double-booked tee times, forgotten his clubs an hour from the course, and made pretty much every other trip-planning mistake there is — so you don't have to. Guided by The Golfeaser Manifesto, he started Golfeaser.com to prove that weekend golfers are a special, funnier breed who improve the experience, not just the scorecard. He's also the guy behind The Weekend Golfer's Social Playbook — a three-step system for finding your people, running trips that actually come together, and earning the right to brag at the 19th hole.

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