I had the unique experience of having a former PGA tour golfer as my godfather and neighbor. While this might sound like a dream for an aspiring golfer, my young teenage self was far more preoccupied with the usual adolescent pursuits. Golf lessons, though very much appreciated, often felt like an interruption to more ‘pressing’ matters like friends, video games and this new thing… girls.

Nevertheless, there were occasional evenings where my godfather would patiently try to impart his knowledge on the driving range. He’d meticulously explain the intricacies of the swing – the precise foot placement, the critical angles of the arms and shoulders, the quest for optimal clubhead speed.

One particular evening, my frustration reached a boiling point. Nothing felt right. Every swing resulted in an unwanted slice, sending the ball veering off course. My driver, usually a source of pleasure, was performing abysmally. Even my reliable 8-iron seemed determined to dig trenches or burn worms alive rather than head anywhere near the target.

My godfather, a man of remarkable composure, sensed my rising anger and told me to  “take a moment,” he advised calmly.

Once I’d managed to control my teenage nonsense, he posed a simple but pointed question: “Why are you upset?”

The answer felt obvious, “because I’m hitting it like crap, everything feels wrong.”

He listened patiently, then asked a question that cut to the core of the issue. “So tell me, are you out here consistently, putting in the dedicated work on your game? Are you hitting hundreds of balls, practicing your putting and chipping?

I found myself looking down at the ground, “No sir.”

His response was direct and impactful, a phrase that has resonated with me far beyond the golf course: 

“Then you haven’t earned the right to get upset.”

At the time, caught in the pity party my immediate frustration, the profound significance of that statement didn’t fully register. It felt like a simple reprimand. However, as I’ve navigated the challenges of adulthood and my profession, that comment has become a touchstone.

As professionals in any area, we often encounter moments of intense frustration. In those moments, my godfather’s question resurfaces: 

Have I truly earned the right to be upset?

That simple question serves as a crucial reminder: mastery in any craft, including design, is not an entitlement. It is the direct result of consistent effort, dedicated practice, and a willingness to engage in the often-unseen, repetitive work that builds true proficiency. It’s about putting in the metaphorical “thousand balls” – the countless hours of learning, experimenting, and refining our skills.

So, the next time you find yourself facing a challenge that sparks frustration, take a pause and ask yourself that same question. It’s a reminder that while passion and talent are important, consistent effort and dedication are the foundations upon which results are built.