What “lemonade rocks” taught me about golf improvement.
I remember it clearly; we’d moved into the area at the start of the school year so I was an unknown quantity; my classmates were shocked to see this interloper doing so well.
I heard a few mutterings to the effect that I “wouldn’t get that lucky again”, ascribing my success to a fluke.
But I had a secret weapon.
I feel I should explain a little.
Before the test, I’d been at the “tuck shop” and had bought 2 ounces of boiled sweets (or candy, if you prefer), the aforementioned lemonade rocks. I’d heard sucking on a sweet helped concentration and was thus determined to use this to my advantage.
And it had obviously been successful.
Imagine, then, my consternation when the shop sold out, due in part to my enthusiastic endorsement. I told myself that the type of sweet didn’t matter, any sweet designed to be sucked rather than chewed would do.
But it didn’t work.
I did OK in exams, but not any better than my usual; sometimes I was even a little worse…all because they didn’t have my muse, my lemonade rocks. I came to believe there was something about the sweets themselves, some magic ingredient which helped my brain go into overdrive.
I cut a forlorn figure trudging down every day, more in hope than in expectation, for those yellow-and-white lumps of boiled syrup.
Until the day they were finally back in stock. As luck would have it, I had a maths test the very next day and I gleefully anticipated my results. I knew 100% wasn’t a given, but I’d be in the 90′s or high 80′s at the very least.
You can probably guess how it went.
My 78% wasn’t dreadful, but it was well below my average, let alone my expectations. I realised (only 14 months too late) my results had nothing to do with my choice in confectionary. Who would’ve thought it?