The Choke: When an Athlete’s Toughest Opponent Is Himself

For those of us who have sweated bullets over a four-foot putt at their local public golf course, gone dry-mouthed at the speaker’s platform in front of a thousand people or suffered brain-lock on the date of their dreams, the recent collapse of the world’s top golfer at the Masters was an affirmation that we are not alone.

Greg Norman, the golden-haired, chisel-faced ideal of any poor slob who ever hacked his way around 18 holes, had a seemingly insurmountable six-stroke lead going into the final round of perhaps the most prestigious golftournament in the world. Granted, Norman had a history of heartbreaking losses in such major tournaments, but almost all of them resulted from a miraculous shot by his opponent. Seen merely as star-crossed, Norman maintained his lofty image through years of such misfortune.

But on April 14, on the verge of finally winning his first “major” on U.S. soil, the Shark, as he is known, succumbed to the same phenomenon that plagues the rest of us who fall to pieces while playing for beers at the Altadena Golf Course.

He choked.

He not only lost the Masters but his score in the final round was 11 strokes worse than that of his playing partner Nick Faldo.

“Although it’s an ugly word,” says clinical and sports psychologist Steven Hedlin of Irvine, “a man who’s had a six-shot lead and loses by five. . . “

Hedlin, like most of us, finds it hard to say the CH-word, even though he has worked for the last half-dozen years to help professional and amateur golfers overcome this most dreaded affliction.

“Under sufficient pressure,” he says, “even highly accomplished people can feel the fear of failure [and] cannot meet the challenge.”

“Yeah, he may have choked for a couple of holes,” says Bob Rotella, director of sports psychology at the University of Virginia and shrink to some of pro golf’s elite.

It was obvious to Hedlin, Rotella and most of the millions of other TV viewers who watched this most public of humiliations that Norman indeed was feeling the pressure: He was moving too fast; at the same time, he was spending too much time on his normal ritual of carefully visualizing and planning his shot before hitting it.

When this pre-shot routine gets out of rhythm, a professional golfer behaves something like Superman in the presence of kryptonite. “He forgets his game plan. . . . His muscles get spastic, his feet get stiff, and he loses his natural grace and tempo,” Rotella says.

However, Rotella and collaborator Bob Cullen note in “Golf Is Not a Game of Perfect” (Simon & Schuster, 1995), “some of the finest, most admirable human beings in the world have choked in tight situations.”

“But I don’t think Norman choked in the sense of being afraid,” Rotella said. “Maybe he tried too hard. It’s like trying too hard to get someone to like you.”

It is this all-too-human characteristic of trying to be perfect--and failing--that “in some ways makes [Norman] more attractive to people,” says Hedlin. “People see some of themselves in this.

“The curiosity [of seeing the collapse of] someone so admired--so strong, good-looking and held up as a paragon of a man” is what made so many people take notice, he says.

Indeed, in the days since his debacle, Norman has been besieged by letters, faxes and phone calls of support from everyone from the former prime minister of Australia (where Norman is from) to his fellow pros, some not noted for their fondness of the Shark. Even Faldo, the strong, stoic Englishman who is perhaps Norman’s fiercest rival, became teary-eyed and hugged his opponent when their match ended.

A good hug can’t hurt, but Hedlin says he would work with the Shark in the same way he does with someone with a fear of public speaking or airplanes or elevators, using relaxation and positive visual imagery techniques. “When you’re anxious and under pressure, you begin a chain of negative associations, which leads to catastrophic thinking,” he says.

Hedlin might have Norman clean his spiked shoes at regular intervals, as a way to slow down and adhere to the all-important pre-shot routine.

Rotella says he would simply try to get Norman to “learn to understand that sometimes you can want things too badly.” He adds that he would try to get Norman to keep his routine short and play more conservatively in major tournaments.

But Rotella puts Norman’s “problem” in perspective by noting that most of the other golfers on tour--not to mention the rest of us--would love to be in Norman’s shoes, contending for the winner’s circle so often.

“The beauty of Greg Norman,” he says, “is that when you fail, you still finish second.”