Bunch of people think looping is just carrying clubs and watching golf. Let me walk you through my damn Monday trying this Joe Skovron stuff out. Went deep on his routines. Spoiler: it hurts.
The Crack-of-Dawn Struggle
Alarm screeched at 5:02AM. Darker than inside a golf bag out there. Chugged stale coffee like my life depended on it – honestly felt like it did. Hauled my worn-out push cart, that giant freaking tour bag (borrowed one heavy as sin), water jugs, towels, extra spikes… felt like packing for a war zone. Got to the local course before even the dew dried up. Sun wasn’t even awake yet. Managers looked at me like I escaped somewhere.
Pretending I Knew What I Was Doing
Started walking the empty course. This is where Skovron drills hard. Felt like an idiot pacing off every possible yardage: to the front bunker lip, that weird tree branch, the sprinkler head near the cart path nobody uses. Scribbled it all down in my little notebook until my fingers cramped. Stuff like:
- Par 3 – Pin tucked back left? Forget 150. Add 5 yards because of the slope you can’t see.
- Dogleg right? Yeah, the carry over that fairway bunker ain’t what the card says, boss. More like 220 carry playing downhill breeze.
- That little dip before the green? Ball stops dead there like it hit glue.
Was dripping sweat before my imaginary player even arrived.
The “Player” Showed Up
My buddy Dave plays off a 3 handicap. Thought he’d know everything. Wrong.
First tee box. Dave says “Wind’s helping, right?” I look at the pines, feel the sweat on my neck… “Nope. Dead in your face. Play an extra club, maybe two.” He doubted it. Smashed it perfect… landed way short. Got the side-eye. Felt good.
Third hole, downhill lie. He grabs 9-iron automatically. I step in: “Dave, that ball’s gonna sit way low. Your stance is awful. Take a smooth 8, don’t hammer it.” He grumbles… does it. Drops it stiff. Got the nod. That silent approval? Better than cash.
Learned fast: it’s not just the numbers. It’s reading him. Noticed his shoulders slump after a bad putt? Next drive needed “Hey, target right edge of that bunker, rip it.” Confidence boost delivered. Saved him from melting down.
Stuff They Don’t Tell You (The Ugly)
- Your Feet Scream. 36 holes? Blisters on my blisters. Limping back to the car.
- You’re a Freaking Pack Mule. Ran out of water twice refilling HIS jugs. Ate a crushed protein bar walking up the 15th fairway.
- Weather Prophet Needed. Got poured on? Yep. Didn’t pack the rain cover. Lesson learned.
- Players Get Grumpy. Dave swore like a sailor after a missed 3-footer. You stay calm. You say “We got the read right, just hit it too firm. Next one.” Bottling up the urge to snap back.
- Payday Blues. After gas, food, replacing my ruined socks? Made maybe enough for a decent burger. This ain’t for the cash dreamers.
What Stuck? The Big Pieces
You become a machine. Seeing slopes automatically. Feeling wind changes in your bones. Knowing distances in your sleep. Anticipating what the player needs BEFORE he knows he needs it. That’s the mastery.
But honestly? Respect for those loopers skyrocketed. It’s brutal, constant mind and body grind. That trust? It took me years to build with my buddy on the field. Imagine showing up Monday with a total stranger needing it instantly? Damn. Skovron makes it look easy. It’s not. It’s about being unshakeable while carrying the bag, the mind games, and the weather. Took one lousy Monday to get it.
