When it comes to the mental game of disc golf, it always feel as though the most simple lessons are the hardest to conquer.  

This definitely isn’t unique to frolf, or any other game involving birdies and bogies, but that doesn’t make it any less true.  Hell, this sort of thing is true in almost every aspect of life.

Don’t procrastinate.  The sentiment is simple as all hell, but nearly impossible to make true without more than a bit of effort.

Don’t use the snooze button.  Again, absolutely easy to understand, yet wholly impossible to adhere to.

Drive the speed limit.  Yeah, okay pal.  Sure.

In disc golf, one of these simple-yet-impossible tasks is the act of not sulking or pouting or throwing a hissy fit when things don’t go your way.  

We all know someone who has a flair for the dramatic out on the course.  The guy or gal who seethes more than they breathe, throws discs or bags or F-bombs in front of the kids.  These folks are simply the worst, as evidenced by the fact that no one wants ever to be on the card with them.

Here in Georgia, we have a tree named after one of these egregious a-holes, who spiraled into the deepest of mental abysses after making contact with the first available arborvitae off the tee.  The tirade in question was epic, biblical in scale, and that particular tree is now named after the man and his meltdown.

But, here’s the thing….and this is important:

Sulking doesn’t get you shit.

In fact, being an obnoxious and petty little jerk actually costs you energy.  

You have to tense up in order to fling your bag around.  It takes calories to shout and stomp and denigrate yourself.  And then, if you have the awareness to realize that you’ve been acting like a fucking twerp, you’ll end up in a mental hole trying to exude the right amount of tail-tucked cognizance to make up for your previous bullshit.

This is what we call a “negative return”, as in your’e expending energy in order to tell the world what they already knew:  Your shot wasn’t optimal and you overreacted.

And now for the worst part:  You’ll be spending the rest of the round thinking about what your card mates are going to tell their buddies back at tournament central.

On the bright side, you might get a tree named after you.