Talent is an oft-discussed, but rarely well-defined theme in sports. For seemingly all of eternity, opposing sides have waged philosophical war over whether innate talent or hard work matters most to the success of an individual or team.
Is Tom Brady the GOAT because he has worked his @ss his entire life to improve throwing mechanics, learn how to dissect defenses, and keep his body healthy and ready to play week in and week out? Or is he the GOAT because he has always been naturally gifted with a strong arm, brilliant football mind, and incredibly pliable body? It is work ethic or raw ability?
Ask the same question about Tiger Woods, Roger Federer, or Michael Jordan and you’re going to get similar debates. It’s the kind of fodder that keeps TV people like Skip Bayless and Stephen A. Smith employed and incredibly rich.
The problem we run into during these kinds of debates is the oversight of nuance (sadly, public discourse in 2022 tends to overlook nuance by default). If we all took a quiet moment to ourselves and really thought about it, I think we could come to a fairly uncontroversial consensus that neither hard work nor talent ALONE is the reason for success (I’ve even added a poll below to test that hypothesis). Success requires a bit both, ESPECIALLY at the highest level of sport.
Now, chances are your mind hasn’t just been blown by those four paragraphs. I haven’t said anything particularly novel or interesting here … but I think it’s important to set some context for where I’m going as I discuss the specific nuance relating to my climb and what I am trying to accomplish.
For a long time, I truly believed that hard work was the overwhelming, predominant factor in one’s success. I wasn’t naive enough to think it was a 100 to 0 split, but I probably would have assigned an 85% weighting to the hard work side of the equation. It’s a more romantic way of looking at success.
Work as hard as you possibly can and you too can be Tiger Woods!
It’s the point of view you take when you are not the most talented individual in your field or profession. It’s easy to quantify hard work (I worked 50% more hours than my peer, therefore I worked harder) … unlike talent which is much more difficult to measure (partly because it is so hard to define).
Working hard is universally celebrated. Talent is often viewed from a negative perspective (“can you believe he is wasting that talent?”). Working hard is attainable. Being talented is a dream lost to those who are not born with that special “it factor” (*to be clear, this is the pundit’s point of view).
My opinion on the subject only strengthened early on in my “corporate” career. I have never been all that smart … emotionally intelligent maybe and pretty good at communicating … but NEVER the smartest person in the room. I did, however, often find myself working harder than most. Not because I wanted to appear to be working harder (which is what I see a lot of these days), but because I truly believed it was the only way I would find success in whatever it was I was doing at the time (I also felt guilty NOT working hard). That hard work (plus my willingness to learn) translated into a lot of personal accomplishment in the white-collar world. It gave me first-hand evidence suggesting that working hard was more important than raw ability.
As the years have gone by and I’ve become a bit more weathered in this world, my mindset has shifted and the hard work to talent weighting debate is as close to 50/50 as it has ever been for me. I don’t think it will ever move past the median line (my parents raised me as a romantic after all), but I’m far more willing to accept that having a baseline of talent raises one’s performance ceiling far beyond that of the individual who works insanely hard but just wasn’t blessed with raw ability. I DO believe that raw ability can be enhanced to a certain degree (through hard work), but not to the level of with those “born” with the Jedi-level midi-chlorian count.
More specifically to my journey and the game of golf, I’ve discovered that talent plays an extremely unique role in competitive golf.
The more I’ve learned about the game this year, the more complex it has gotten. The unique number of elements required to get a golf ball from the tee into a 4.25 inch hole eighteen times, regardless of weather, over the course of four-to-five hours is almost overwhelming. From the technical components of the swing to the decision making to the mental gymnastics required to play one’s best … it is really f*cking complicated. On any given hole, a player is making dozens (if not hundreds) of decisions that need to translate into physical movement.
What I have come to believe (primarily over the past four months) is that innate talent provides two major benefits to the player:
Talent reduces the number of elements that must be actively considered on every shot.
The more talented one is, the easier it is to translate those remaining considerations into physical action.
Basically … more talent = less thinking … and as anyone who has played golf knows, thinking ain’t great when you’re trying to swing a driver 115 miles per hour and make solid contact with a tiny white ball.
When you’re innately talented, the game becomes simpler. Everything becomes more repeatable. It is easier to remain confident and snowball that confidence into further success. You have less “elements” to worry about simply because you’ve never had to worry about them in the past. You’ve never had to worry about how the face angle of the club at impact needs to be manipulated a degree or two open to hit a little cut because you’ve always just hit that shot without thinking about it. You don’t have to worry about how you’re going to adjust your trajectory for a shot into heavy wind because you’ve always just been able to make it happen on command.
When you’re not so innately talented, there is an extra level of concentration required that may hold up for a short period of time … but is likely to degrade performance (relative to those who are more talented) over time. Not to mention the scar tissue of hitting bad shots (upon that inevitable degradation) is more impactful/longer lasting than the scar tissue for the talented.
Now, hard work can certainly make up some of that gap. Do something enough and those elements of consideration can become second nature to a certain degree. I’d even argue that it could potentially be an advantage because the hard worker who has to think about EVERYTHING will be better prepared for non-standard situations that arise on the golf course.
But at the end of the day, the benefits of being talented are meaningful. The hard worker has a LOT of hard work in front of them simply to catch up and gain some level of parity. And if the talented peer is working hard themselves, they’ll likely never be caught.
This concept manifests itself in some of the scores we are seeing from non-touring professionals these days. Keep even one eye on the golf media and you’ll see at least one story a week about a 13-year old phenom shooting 59 or (my personal favorite) a random professional who has never made it on tour and is famous for playing money games down south shot 57 - 60 in a two round mini-tour event … that was TWENTY-EIGHT under par (par 73 the first day, par 72 the second) … for two freakin rounds of golf. These are guys and gals who just “have it" and aren’t worried about every little thing going on with their swings or their games. I’m sure they work hard, but I can promise you they work no harder than I do … they don’t have to. They are just really good.
So am I talented?
By my definition … not really.
I have to think … a lot … about my golf game. I have a really solid understanding of what is required to play well, but lack the innate talent described in benefit #2 to translate all of those elements and considerations into the best possible physical actions every single time I hit a golf shot. It is certainly happening more frequently thanks to the hard work I put into my game, but it’s not at the level required right now.
Does this better understanding of the realities of professional golf mean I don’t have a chance to accomplish my dream?
Phew, big question … and the short answer is no. I absolutely can accomplish something in the world of golf if I continue to work really hard. The bigger overall answer is probably more nuanced though. Not being talented makes it infinitely harder, but impossible is a really big word and one I’m not ready to give in to yet. Even if my ceiling isn’t as high as most of those guys out there competing for the limited spots on the PGA Tour, it doesn’t mean I can’t rise to the occasion on my best day and beat them.
The understanding of what is required is valuable on its own and is an integral part of the process. This whole year has been about collecting knowledge and creating a foundation upon which to build.
Building something great takes time and consistency. If I am ever forced to give up, it will be because it has become apparent that the time necessary to accomplish the goal simply isn’t going to be available to me. Every day I chase this dream is one less day of building a career elsewhere and helping my wife to set up our family for success long term. That weighs on me quite a bit and will be a massive factor in my decision making during this climb. And giving up for that reason is OKAY if it comes to that.
What won’t be okay is if I give up today because the odds of beating out more talented people are too overwhelming. That is an outcome I refuse to accept. Not because it isn’t likely (let’s be honest, it is), but because it isn’t romantic. Logic and reason have gotten me a long way in life, but it will never get me to the one (professional) thing I truly want in this life.
This climb requires a certain level of arrogance and sheer lunacy. I’ve scratched the surface of my inner madman, but to make it all the way I’ll need much more than sheer talent … I’ll need belief, I’ll need dedication, I’ll need hard work, and most importantly, I’ll need heart.
To my talented climbers out there, I envy what you have and appreciate the magic y’all can make with seemingly such little effort … but gosh darn is that view going to be so much f*ckin sweeter for me after I scratch and claw my way to the top of the mountain to join you.
Keep climbing y’all.
The journey is the joy.