3 Reasons I Love Being A High-Handicapper (Even Though I'd Rather Not Be)

High-handicappers struggle more than most with the turbulence that this frustrating game consistently delivers.

The addictive nature of golf means we are always striving to shoot lower scores, cut our handicap and generally improve on the course - but there are some benefits to being a high-handicap golfer.

Let me be clear, I'd rather not be - but while I am on the journey to a sub-20 handicap I might as well enjoy a few things along the way.

It was mentioned on our Golf Monthly team call that I might have an image problem, perhaps due to some strong (and often negative) takes on issues such as slow play and, more recently, the NR rule.

In a bid to shake that, I am going to write something positive about my experience as a 'chopper' that I am sure will endear me to low- and mid-handicap players everywhere! I'll wait to hear your thoughts in the comments section below...

1. The Points

Let's start in the most obvious place - the shots!

Rocking up to the course and checking the handicap table is a fun experience for a high-handicap golfer, with astronomical numbers paving a majestic yellow brick road to the promise land of points.

Some people might feel embarrassed explaining to their playing partners that they get 25 shots, but I would encourage those individuals to let go of that guilt.

I put a card in a card regularly and anyone who looks at my England Golf profile will see that my handicap is coming down (slowly). They will also see that I am capable of posting three-figure scores regularly and I am not averse to a snowman here or there.

The reality is I need those shots just to be semi-competitive.

But, with the blind optimism that every amateur golfer experiences before the first tee shot is hit, I always fill in my scorecard believing this is going to be the day I break 90 and bring home a monster points haul.

2. The Winning Potential

At risk of sounding like a famous British TV presenter from the 80s and 90s... what do points make? Prizes.

With shots in the bank, I theoretically have a a great chance of winning competitions almost every weekend.

In the Saturday medal, I can afford to fritter away 25 shanks, duffs, slices and pulled putts before the need to get serious really kicks in.

Stableford, you say? Well, that's even better. With 25 shots, I am walking on to seven of the hardest holes with two shots up my sleeve (not literally, I'm not a cheat).

There have been times I have made par on the significant seven, which has returned a tasty four points and immediately rectified the blob I made on the hole before.

The safety net feels great on the front nine, but when I turn in 52 and realise that I probably need at least double the shots I was originally given to actually lift the trophy - the fairytale fades and the reality of the game kicks me in the groin.

By now, I hope you realise that there is a sense irony and a hint of sarcasm in my tone.

That relates to this section in particular.

I am fed up of being told that I am 'lucky' to get so many shots and that it's 'unfair' that I have such a good chance of winning the comp at the expense of better golfers - who apparently stand 'no chance'.

For clarity, I would swap my golf game with any low-handicap golfer in a heartbeat. I am not going to feel sorry for you because you are good at golf, so please cut it out.

The handicap system is there to help level the playing field and I think it does a good job of it.

Anyway, that's my one and only moan of this much more positive piece (I promise).

3. The Progress

That nicely brings me on to my last point.

As a high-handicap golfer, seeing improvements in your game is thrilling. It also isn't that hard, with a little work and effort, to notice your swing, short game or putting performances moving in the right direction.

After all, if your starting point is not being able to keep the ball on the planet, struggling to get out of bunkers in less than two shots and three-putting on every other green - progress is relatively achievable.

Scratch players and low-handicap golfers grind for weeks to see marginal gains, to help move their already stellar swing a step closer to their ideal movement, but not me.

I can have a lesson, pitch up to the range once a week for a month and start getting closer to breaking 90 for the first time.

Again, I'd happily give up the sense of euphoria that a high-handicapper experiences when watching their golf ball travel 160 yards+ on their intended start line if the trade was the ability to shoot in the high-70s or low 80s every week (and say I played 'terribly').

Everything in the game of golf is relative. I am enjoying the journey I am on, apart from the grief that high-handicappers get, and I know that one day I will reflect longingly on the days where I used to get two shots on a 155-yard par 3.