“That last putt, I couldn’t really see the ball because of my tears.”
Na Yeon Choi wasn’t going to cry. But then after she hit her tee shot on the 18th, Amy Yang said “Good job” and started to sob. Choi followed suit.
“That last putt,” she said, “I couldn’t really see the ball because of my tears.”
Choi’s final LPGA event proved unforgettable for a number of reasons. During the third round, the 35-year-old South Korean aced the par-3 12th at the BMW Ladies Championship to win a BMW X7 SUV.
On Sunday at Oak Valley Country Club, several LPGA players held up a banner as she wrapped up a decorated career that spanned 18 years. Choi finished with a sparkling 68. Among the players who came out to support was Inbee Park, an LPGA Hall of Famer who wasn’t in the field this week.
“I would first like to thank my friends for coming all the way from Seoul,” she said. “My friends really supported me during tough times. To support each other and wish the best for each other whilst playing in the same tour, as professional golfers is actually harder than it looks, but Inbee, So Yeon, Jeongeun have helped greatly with golf and mentally as well. So I am really grateful for the five players who are here today.”
Inbee Park of South Korea, So-yeon Ryu of South Korea and former player Ha-neul Kim of South Korea hold a banner to appreciate Na-yeon Choi (not pictured) who is retiring near the 9th green during the final round of the BMW Ladies Championship at Oak Valley Country Club on October 23, 2022 in Wonju, South Korea. (Photo by Chung Sung-Jun/Getty Images)
Choi won nine times on the LPGA, including the 2012 U.S. Women’s Open, and rose as high as No. 2 in the world. Choi made the decision to retire earlier this season and asked BMW for a sponsor exemption into this week. She said she leaves the tour with no regrets.
Through her popular YouTube channel, Choi learned that she likes to teach. She’d like to do some of that in the future, if she can figure out a way to do it that’s healthy for her.
“My only concern with this is that personally I think I got really worn out from the emotional side of being a golfer,” she said. “For instance, if I don’t play well, then there’s stress, and I’m struggling with all these emotions. It kind of wore me down. My only concern is I might relate too much to the players or kids that I teach, and I do have a fear about me getting into that emotional cycle again.”
She also has an interest in golf commentary in South Korea.
As for immediate plans, Choi said she had wanted to go out drinking with friends.
“I don’t know if this makes me old, but I am getting dental implants,” she said, “so I cannot drink alcohol right now. But other than that, I am loving the fact that I no longer have to get up at 4 or 5 a.m.”
Choi said her ace on Saturday came off as exactly as she’d imagined. She immediately had goosebumps after she struck her 6-iron from 171 yards. Adding to the serendipitous moment was that fact that CME Group donates $20,000 for each hole-in-one made on the LPGA to St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital.
“Of course, whenever you ace a hole, you’re ecstatic,” said Choi. “But at the same time, for me, I think I got kind of emotional because it almost seemed like I was being rewarded for all those years of hard work.”
She won nine times on the LPGA, including the 2012 U.S. Women’s Open, and ranked as high as No. 2.
The first time Na Yeon Choi missed the cut on the LPGA as a member (after 63 starts), her mom suggested that she go to the grocery store and buy a carton of eggs. Then she told her to throw them. Choi hurled eggs at the wall until she felt better, and then cleaned up the mess.
She told that story more than a decade ago without the aid of an interpreter. Choi was so committed to learning English in those early days that the South Korean hired a tutor to circle the globe.
She took her freedom a step further when she asked her parents to go back to South Korea and support her from a distance. In a way, this unusual act of independence made Choi a bit of a pioneer among her peers, who mostly traveled with family.
The decision came in her second year on tour after Choi found herself crying in a bathroom after a top-10 finish. Choi’s well-meaning parents kept quizzing her on what went wrong that week. She yearned for independence.
“My dad was like, ‘How dare you? I sacrificed my life for you, and you’re playing the LPGA,’ ” Choi once told Golfweek. “I want to see you win.”
Choi did win a few months later, and then cried about the fact that her parents weren’t there to see it. Life on the road can be lonely and complicated. Over the years, Choi has been open and honest about her journey.
Choi Na-Yeon of South Korea waves a hand to the fans during the award ceremony of the final round of the 2010 LPGA Hana Bank Championship at Sky 72 Golf Club on October 31, 2010, in Incheon, South Korea. (Photo by Chung Sung-Jun/Getty Images)
After this week’s BMW Ladies Championship, Choi — who is playing on a sponsor exemption — will retire from the LPGA. She first shared the news earlier this month on her Instagram account. The 15-year tour veteran turns 35 later this month. She won nine times on the LPGA, including the 2012 U.S. Women’s Open, and ranked as high as No. 2. Choi has banked nearly $11 million in her career, putting her 19th on the career money list.
“I had been considering it, so I gave myself this season and around midseason, it sort of crystalized into this decision to retire,” said Choi in a pre-tournament press conference at Oak Valley Country Club.
“There was no one single moment where I decided this was the time to announce my retirement. I have been playing for a long time and I really want to start something new as fast as I can, and what that’s going to be, I have no idea. But I have no regrets with my career as a golfer, and I’m sure that I’m probably going to end up doing something related to golf, but I’m very excited to start the second chapter.”
Choi was 10 years old when she watched Se Ri Pak win the 1998 U.S. Women’s Open at Blackwolf Run. It was then that she knew she wanted to come to the U.S. to compete. She turned professional at age 16 and her parents sold both of their businesses (a gas station and restaurant) to support her.
After three seasons on the KLPGA, Choi joined the LPGA in 2008 and finished 11th on the money list in her rookie year. Toward the end of the next season, the pressure to win was almost suffocating. She met with Vision54 coaches the week of the 2009 Samsung World Championship and won that same week.
She’d go on to follow in the footsteps of Pak, winning the Open at Blackwolf Run three years later.
Na Yeon Choi of South Korea poses with the championship trophy after her four-stroke victory at the 2012 U.S. Women’s Open on July 8, 2012, at Blackwolf Run in Kohler, Wisconsin. (Photo by Scott Halleran/Getty Images)
In her retirement announcement, Choi said she both loved and gated golf, and that she’ll miss the challenge of it.
“Looking back on my 18 years,” she wrote, “I wish I could have made more friends as I had wanted to. I was busy heading forward without looking around, making the excuse of my not-so-perfect English and being coy.
“Now I’ll cheer for all players from afar. I know that they have to go through lonely battles with themselves. Instead of just saying cheer up, I want to tell them, ‘Try to be relaxed and thankful. Be more focused on yourself and cherish and love yourself. You are always great players.’ ”
In the second half of her career, Choi battled a back injury and driver yips. She sought the advice of World Golf Hall of Famers Beth Daniel and Meg Mallon, once taking five days over the Thanksgiving holiday to pour out her soul.
Na Yeon Choi of South Korea hits a tee shot on the 10th hole during the second round of the LPGA Founders Cup at Wildfire Golf Club on March 20, 2015, in Phoenix. (Photo by Christian Petersen/Getty Images)
When she needed more time to heal, Choi took a medical exemption and went on a solo trip to Europe.
“She’s actually one of the only players who really listened to us,” said Mallon, who believes far too many players don’t take the proper amount of time to recover from injuries.
That’s when Choi first realized that she could have a life apart from tournament golf.
Now she’s ready to bravely step into the unknown once more. No regrets.
Despite players being constantly surrounded by competitors, life on the LPGA can be incredibly lonely.
Karen Stupples makes a living talking about golf, but she’s actually quite shy. To escape the bullying she sometimes endured at school back in England and enter a world where her own creativity and drive could blossom, Stupples shoved a couple of clubs into her backpack and rode her bike five miles down the road to Princes Golf Club, where the practice ground was tucked away from chatty grown-ups and peace and quiet prevailed.
For Stupples, the solitary nature of golf was a natural fit.
“I’m a firm believer that whether a player is successful or not on tour,” said Stupples, “is how comfortable they are with that loneliness.”
There are no teammates in professional golf. Players are constantly surrounded by competitors, and it takes effort to make friends. Even winning can be lonely.
When the hugs and handshakes and press conferences are over, the victor often walks out of the clubhouse to the startling realization that the tour is gone. The traveling circus has packed up and moved on and, unless family is on the road, there are times the winner is left standing alone with the trophy.
Karen Stupples working as an on-course announcer for the Golf Channel during the Ricoh Women’s British Open. (Photo: David Cannon/Getty Images)
“I think I felt more lonely when I played well,” said Na Yeon Choi, a nine-time winner on the LPGA, including the 2012 U.S. Women’s Open.
Being alone, of course, isn’t the same as feeling lonely. How a player builds her support system for this nomadic life can have a deep impact on performance and longevity.
“I think far more people struggle coming out on tour because of the lack of community and loneliness,” said 27-year-old Amy Olson, “than from a technical problem in their swing or their putting stroke.”
Growing up different
Angel Yin showed prodigious talent at an age when some kids are still learning how to color inside the lines. By 7 she was competing in tournaments and began separating herself from “normal everyday kid life” to focus on the future. For the exceptional, the battle with loneliness can begin early.
“We’re friends with competitors, but you can’t just go cry on their shoulder because maybe they played worse than you,” said Yin. “You’ve got your mom, but this is your job. You have to accept it. Sometimes you just hold it inside, but you want to let it out.”
Yin, one of the longest players in the women’s game, loves to make people laugh. She’s a cut-up during interviews and doesn’t appear to be an introvert, though she says she tips that way.
“I close myself off,” she said. “I disappear for a while.”
It’s easy to do when more than half the year is spent on the road, away from friends and family. In high school, classes forced her to connect with people. As a professional, she had to make a choice. She chose not to connect. She has since realized the need to change.
“I enjoy being alone,” said the 20-year-old American. “There’s nothing wrong with that, but we do need friends in life.”
More than a number
Mo Martin lines up a putt at the 2018 Volunteers of America LPGA Texas Classic at Old American Golf Club on May 5, 2018 in The Colony, Texas. (Photo: Darren Carroll/Getty Images)
Mo Martin calls it “performance-based communication.” Win a tournament and your world explodes, like when she won the 2014 AIG Women’s British Open at Royal Birkdale. Calls and texts poured in along with interview requests. Miss a cut, on the other hand, and nobody wants to talk to you.
“I think that’s hard mental health-wise to balance,” said Martin, 36, who is rehabbing a back injury. “You get a lot of exposure when you’re doing well, but when you’re not doing well, you’re either criticized or ignored.”
Vision54 performance coaches Pia Nilsson and Lynn Marriott call the human side of golf the forgotten piece. So much of being a professional is centered around results. Players sometimes feel reduced to a pile of numbers.
“The real you is your values,” said Nilsson. “I think it’s more important today than ever … to create a support group around them (focusing) more on who they are than what they do.”
Angela Stanford, 41, said the first time she really felt alone in the game was this year when she dealt with her first serious injury and came back playing poorly.
At least on a team, said the TCU grad, you’re rehabbing in a facility with other players and sitting in the dugout or the bench during games.
“Here, it’s you,” she said. “So when you’re not playing or you’re not playing good and your phone is really quiet, I think that’s when it’s hard.”
Oftentimes fellow players, even friends, don’t know what to say when someone falls into a slump.
“You don’t want to ask them why,” said Stanford. “It’s a weird dynamic. I’ve had a couple of friends that have struggled. I’m learning all you can say is ‘I’m thinking about you. It hasn’t passed me that you are struggling.’
“That’s been hard because I haven’t had a lot of people say that to me.”
At times, the silence was as painful as the injured rib.
Wired but not connected
As the LPGA skews younger, more and more players are growing into adulthood while traveling the globe chasing a dream. And much of their lives, at least a version of it, is available for the world to see on social media.
“There’s this outer persona that so many are required to keep up, that’s a mismatch back to who they are,” said Marriott.
The Vision54 coaches help players learn how to run the show in this virtual world “and not let it run you.”
“These young golfers are addicted to social media,” said Marriott. “Literally, they can’t get off of it.”
It’s about redirecting daily habits so that the phone isn’t the first thing that comes out of the golf bag and consumes a player’s attention all through lunch. Helping players learn how to connect and squashing the notion that you can’t open up and care for the competition.
Rookie Charlotte Thomas decided in September to quit social media for the rest of the season. She doesn’t have any contractual obligations to be on Twitter or Instagram, and while she feels guilty about not interacting with sponsors and fans, it’s more important that she stops comparing herself to others.
Little by little, it was eating away at her joy.
The LPGA looks so glamorous in perfectly edited photos and carefully chosen words. But the reality behind this hashtag life is that most players travel the world but rarely see it.
Many never make it beyond the hotel and the golf course.
Nilsson and Marriott want players to start thinking about what they can do off the golf course that will give them energy before they turn professional. Choi, 31, for example, learned how to bring people together by cooking South Korean specialties in her hotel room. She also spent time in big-box stores like Target, Walmart and Home Depot talking to workers so she could strengthen her English skills away from the spotlight.
Paula Creamer said the unconditional love of her dogs, first Studley and now Penny, helped her on weeks she traveled alone and reminded her to see the big picture after a tough day.
In Gee Chun lets loose with ice hockey during the offseason and took up drawing last spring. Being active helps the two-time major winner forget how far away she is from home.
Christina Kim during the first round of the KPMG Women’s PGA Championship at Hazeltine National Golf Club. (Photo: Thomas J. Russo/USA TODAY Sports)
When Christina Kim asks, “Are you OK?” it’s not a flippant question. She wants to know. Truly. As a person who has been open about her battle with depression and thoughts of suicide, she’d do anything to help someone else avoid going down the same road.
“A lot of that was out of loneliness,” said Kim, “but a lot of that was out of my own stubbornness, my own inability to ask for help, my inability to realize that I needed help.”
So many players on tour are the breadwinner for their families, said Kim. They are the CEO of their business, and when problems arise, it’s not always easy to share those concerns.
“You almost feel like you have the future of the world depending on you,” said Kim, 35. “So you have to be strong. You can’t allow your emotions to take over.”
Kim appreciates the blue-chip athletes, like Michael Phelps, who have been open about anxiety and depression.
“The fact that Michael Phelps came out and said that he sees a psychiatrist,” said Kim, “you’re an Adonis! You’re one of the greatest athletes of all time. What could be wrong with you?”
Phelps’ admission provided a lot of perspective for Kim.
“I learned that a lot of what was going on with me went back to the fact that our bodies are working 24 hours a day to keep us from crumbling under the pressure,” said Kim. “When you’re constantly trying to perfect yourself, you’re run ragged. Just like a car runs out of gas.”
Double-edged sword
After someone gushed to Martin, “Oh my god, you have the best job in the world!” her uncle, who was at an LPGA tournament for the first time, looked at her and lovingly said, “Your life sucks.”
Martin laughed and said both statements were true. The opportunities can be extraordinary. But she misses out on a lot, too.
Stanford often tells people she’d like to drive a school bus when golf is over. Sleep in her own bed, same schedule every day, summers and weekends off. She might hate it, but the normalcy of it sure sounds nice.
Missing the weddings of friends and the births of their children, said Martin, becomes part of the job.
“I don’t consider myself to be a selfish person,” she said. “But to play this game at the highest level is very selfish. You have to maintain this certain space. … That is the loneliness part of it.”
Or the beauty of it, depending on whom you ask and where they are in the journey. Gwk
This story originally appeared in the October issue of Golfweek magazine. Click here to subscribe.
South Korean golfer Na Yeon Choi faced new challenges when she joined the LPGA, but her newfound community helped her adapt.
Na Yeon Choi still remembers the taste of the first meal she ever cooked in her hotel room. It was horrible.
And yet, it was the taste of freedom.
She’d go out to big-box stores like Wal-mart, Target and Home Depot after practice and test out her English on the store employees, taking advantage of the perfunctory, “How can I help you?”
She didn’t think about golf after she left the course. After a good night’s rest, she’d head back out the next day refreshed.
That independence came only after a painful decision.
After a top-10 finish in her second year on tour, Choi found herself crying in the bathroom because her parents were unhappy with the result. They meant well, of course. Quizzing her after rounds about strategy and forcing her to practice in the hotel room.
Na Yeon Choi poses for photographs at Brickyard Crossing. Mandatory Credit: Trevor Ruszkowski-USA TODAY Sports
But Choi wanted control of her own life, and 10 years ago bravely asked her parents to move back to South Korea.
“My dad was like, ‘How dare you?’ I sacrificed my life for you, and you’re playing the LPGA,” recalled Choi. “I want to see you win.”
A few months later, Choi did win, and then cried about the fact that they weren’t there to see it. A few weeks after that, she won her second LPGA title in South Korea, and everyone was on hand for the celebration.
In the first half of Choi’s career, when she won nine times, including the 2012 U.S. Women’s Open, she found it difficult to open up with friends on tour. What can someone in the winner’s circle possibly have to complain about?
“I think that’s why maybe after I won the tournament or had a good result,” said Choi, “I felt a little empty feeling when I came home.”
Even when she hired a support team to travel with her, it still felt lonely. After all, they’d never been on tour before or played golf as a professional.
“My main sponsor, SK Telecom, is a cell phone company,” said Choi. “I don’t have to pay my phone bill for the last 14 years. I talk a lot to my Korea friends.”
Three years ago, a back injury coupled with the driver yips led Choi to seek the wisdom of a couple of World Golf Hall of Famers in Beth Daniel and Meg Mallon. She spent five days over the Thanksgiving holiday opening up about everything.
Daniel had suffered from the putting yips three times in her career.
“One of the first things we tell a person who is struggling with the yips is that they have to remove the emotions from it,” said Mallon. “They cry every night. They get to the golf course and they’re emotionally drained before they even get started.”
Mallon and Daniel helped Choi get back to focusing on the right things, including smaller targets.
Last year they called Choi to check in.
“They asked me how I am doing and I said ‘I’m good.’ And they said ‘You are a liar,’ ” Choi recalled. “I broke down crying hard and said I need a break.”
Not just for her back, but for her mind and spirit.
“She’s actually one of the only players who really listened to us,” said Mallon, who believes far too many players don’t take the proper amount of time to recover from injuries.
Choi took a medical exemption last year and embarked on a solo trip around Europe, sending back photos of her adventures to Daniel and Mallon
Na Yeon Choi poses for photographs at Brickyard Crossing. (Photo: Trevor Ruszkowski/USA TODAY Sports)
“I thought golf is my life and everything and I couldn’t go away from golf,” said Choi, “but actually I could do it.”
Six months ago, Choi moved to Las Vegas and said she feels settled in her new surroundings. She has learned how to cook, and enjoys serving up Korean favorites on the road with friends. During the dark times, Choi discovered a community of support.
“Since I got more friends and share true feelings, sometimes I cry in front of friends,” said Choi, “and after that I feel a lot better. I feel relief.”
Choi’s mother comes over during the offseason and helps her with everyday life while she practices. These days Choi can share her deepest thoughts in English with no problem. The ability to communicate fully and be uplifted by veterans like Mallon and Daniel, even Karrie Webb at the airport earlier this year, has helped to feed her soul. Choi plans to stay in America even after she retires.
