Golf is a game that teases you with brilliance and then yanks it away. One day you’re striping drives like Rory, the next you’re digging trenches in the fairway wondering if your clubs are cursed. And yet, we keep coming back—chasing that one shot, that one round, that fleeting moment of perfection.
This winter, instead of letting my game go into hibernation, I’m doing something different. I’ve signed up for Adam Young’s The Last Course You’ll Ever Need, an 8-week odyssey that promises not just to make me better but to make me smarter. To teach me how to fix my own game. It’s bold. Maybe even a little overconfident. But then again, so am I.
After listening to Adam for many years on the Chasing Scratch podcast, when I first heard about the course, I was intrigued. Eight weeks of live sessions, recorded presentations and personalised feedback—all designed to break down your game and rebuild it from the ground up. It wasn’t just about fixing a slice or hitting it longer (though I’ll take both, thank you very much). It was about understanding the why behind every shot—why the ball goes left, why the contact feels thin, why some days it all just falls apart.
And the kicker? At the end of it, you’re supposed to walk away not just as a better player but as your own coach. Imagine that: not needing to book a lesson every time your game derails. The idea of being able to diagnose and fix my own swing was too good to pass up.
The course is structured, sure, but it doesn’t feel rigid. Week one is all about data—figuring out where your game is at and where it needs to go. By week two, you’re tackling sweet spot strikes (yes, please). Week six? That’s all about distance, a word that makes every golfer’s ears perk up. And by week eight, it’s about scoring better—strategy, game management, all the things I like to think I’m good at until my scorecard says otherwise.
But what really hooked me was the tone. Adam doesn’t come across like some stiff swing guru rattling off physics equations. He’s practical, down-to-earth, the kind of guy who’d probably tell you to hit another ball instead of spiralling into existential despair over a bad shot. His focus isn’t on making your swing pretty; it’s on making it work.
What do I expect? Honestly, I don’t know. I’ve been chasing this game for years, tweaking, tinkering and occasionally smashing a club in frustration. Maybe this course will be the breakthrough I’ve been looking for. Maybe it’ll just remind me how maddeningly complex this game is. Either way, I’m here for it.
The promise of “self-coaching” is what excites me most. Imagine being able to spot a problem mid-round and actually knowing how to fix it. That’s the kind of freedom every golfer dreams of but rarely achieves.
And if it helps me finally conquer those fat chips or find an extra 20 yards off the tee? Well, that’s just icing on the cake.
So here I am, gearing up for eight weeks of drills, lessons, and (hopefully) revelations. I’ll be documenting the journey—sharing what works, what doesn’t, and all the moments in between. Maybe I’ll learn to love my hybrid as a putter again. Maybe I’ll finally figure out why my 7-iron behaves like it has a vendetta against me.
Golf is a strange, beautiful, infuriating game. And this winter, I’m diving deeper into its chaos than ever before. Stay tuned—it’s bound to be a hell of a ride.