I Played the Arnold Palmer Invitational Pro-Am With Kevin Kisner. Here’s What I Learned

Despite early nerves, a day alongside one of the PGA Tour’s unfiltered superstars was one for the books, writes Gabby Herzig.

ORLANDO, Fla. — When I stepped up to hit my first tee shot this week at Bay Hill Club and Lodge for the Arnold Palmer Invitational Pro-Am, I thought I had everything under control. In my head I was radiating pure confidence. It was my first ever PGA Tour pro-am, but nobody had to know that. “Act like you’ve been there,” they say.

Not so fast.

I could try all I wanted, but a manic concoction of nerves, anticipation and sheer panic scrambling inside my brain just wasn’t going away. Mastercard, the API title sponsor, grouped me with two fellow amateurs, and at Tuesday night’s “Pairings Party,” we learned we were playing with four-time PGA Tour winner and all-around legend, Kevin Kisner. Perhaps that inner hysteria was justified—I was about to have five uninterrupted hours with one of the most beloved players on Tour. It’s completely normal that I–a washed-up 2.6 handicap–chunked my first 10 swings on the practice range … right?

My calm facade inevitably cracked, but in a way that I never anticipated. Just after 1:10 p.m., the starter announced my name on the 10th hole, our first of the day, and as I walked to the tee box I reached for my ponytail, like I always do. (That’s where many of us female players like to keep our golf tees, but that’s a story for another day.)

In that perfect little gap between my hair tie and my hat, however, there was no such tee to be found. I pivoted to Plan B. I fiddled around in the small pocket on the back of my skirt, but again I found emptiness. At this point, all the walls came crashing down. I was forced to turn around and ask my playing partner, Cassandra, if I could borrow her tee. It was a blunder that might as well have been pulled from the first page of the nonexistent glossary, Amateur Moves.

A round with a world-class player at a PGA Tour venue will humble you. And it will humble you quickly.

Reality set in after my approach shot on the 10th hole (yes, I made contact with the ball after the tee box mishap). I only had a wedge into the green but it was absolutely buried in Bay Hill’s infamous 4-inch long rough, which will no doubt be a frequent talking point on the TV broadcast. Trust me when I say that’s for good reason. I put some decent muscle into my full-swing 50-degree wedge, but it came up just a few yards short of my intended landing area and plugged mere inches from the steep lip into the front bunker.

Kisner, about 40 yards ahead of me in the fairway, turned back and yelled, “welcome to Bay Hill.”

The nerves subsided as the day went on at Bay Hill :: Gabby Herzig/SI

My nerves might have flashed on the first tee and Kisner may have taken a friendly rip at me on the first fairway, but I was in golfing heaven. There is simply no other way to describe it.

On the 11th green, each member of our group had long putts for birdie. Everyone knows Kisner is a wizard with the flatstick. He was ranked ninth in strokes-gained putting on the PGA Tour last season. Naturally, I had a total geek-out moment when he helped me read my downhill 45-footer. I pointed to a spot at about the 35-foot mark, a few cups to the right, as a potential point of alignment. Kisner walked along the entire line of my putt and instead picked out a spot at about the 15-foot mark. With no hesitation I took the expert advice, lagged the putt to about 3 feet and made my first par of the day. I didn’t ask Kisner until later—when he gave me the assist with another slippery birdie putt—but I was wondering: Why does he pick a spot in the first half of the lag putt? Why not look further down the line, closer to the hole?

“I like to see the whole putt,” Kisner answered. “I need to see where the line is going from start to finish.”

The answer was simple. Visualize the putt, hit the putt—a slightly more intricate take on the “see ball, hit ball,” method. But the tip resonated.

Kisner is the ultimate feel player, and that was on full display on Wednesday. At one point during our back nine, Kisner and I both had about 100 yards into the green. “Alright, let’s see how far this wedge goes,” he said as he pulled out the new wedge from his Wilson staff bag, no launch monitor in sight. He stuck it to about 4 feet.

On the fourth hole—our 13th of the day—Kisner’s swing coach, Gary Cressend, joined us. I’ll be honest, when there’s a PGA Tour-caliber instructor around, and I’ve got a club in my hand, I’m not going to shy away from asking for a bit of advice. I hit my tee shot solidly, but with my signature push-draw, I ended up in the thick stuff once again. Walking off the tee box, I turned to Cressend and Kisner and asked, “So I have to change my grip if I want to stop doing that, right?”

Cressend pondered the question, but Kisner jumped right in.

“No. I think God made everyone’s arms to swing the club in a certain way,” Kisner said. “Why would you change that? It’s beautiful.”

I didn’t know it at the time but that was exactly the answer I needed. Not just because grip changes are excruciatingly difficult (if you know, you know), but because the simple response gave me some newfound confidence in my less-than-conventional swing. For as long as I can remember I’ve had a ridiculously strong grip. My left hand is turned so far clockwise over the club that you can see almost all of my knuckles when I set up to the ball. Yes, I might have trouble hitting a standard cut shot, but that’s just how I like to swing it. And my home base of New York City doesn’t make it easy to get much practice in and tweak my move.

Cressend stood next to me on the following tee box and echoed Kisner’s refreshing take. “Let your hands fall down by your sides, and look down at them.” I did exactly that, and sure enough, my hands were turned inwards like they are on the golf club.

This is some niche stuff, but it’s the kind of conversation you can’t strike up with the 43rd-ranked player in the world outside of a pro-am setting. The opportunity is just that unique.

Talking to Kisner is a one-of-a-kind experience of its own. The man has no filter, and it’s glorious. An endless supply of F-bombs and a constant flow of trash talk made me feel right at home. Kisner’s answers to my questions were refreshingly honest, and when I asked if I could give a rundown of some of our conversations in this article, he was more than happy to be an open book.

“So all of that stuff is fair game?” I asked.

“My whole life is fair game,” Kisner said.

The hot topic of the day was the PGA Tour’s revamped structure, centered around the designated events with no 36-hole cut and limited fields. I asked Kisner about the announcement almost straight away, and as expected he was all for it. More money to compete against the top players in the world more often? Stronger fields for fans and sponsors? His pitch made perfect sense, despite my initial skeptical thoughts on the news.

I brought up CBS’s new walk-and-talk mic’d up segment. Would Kisner ever be willing to try it out?

“Not unless they pay me.”

Should have seen that one coming. Netflix’s Full Swing? Same thing.

Kisner has been out on the PGA Tour since 2006. He has three kids at 2, 5, and 8 years old, but still takes on a packed travel schedule. I’m always curious how players deal with the weekly stresses on Tour, so I asked Kisner if he works with a mental coach. He doesn’t, but about once a month he’ll speak with someone who resembles more of a life coach.

“What do you talk to him about?” I asked.

“Well, I tell him I’m f---ing sick of playing out here and he tells me to keep doing it.”

Between the one-liners, the best-ball team component, and the Tour-ready conditions at Bay Hill, the day was almost so surreal that it turned into a blur. I deciphered greens with Kisner. I chipped next to Scottie Scheffler at the short game area. I played inside the ropes at an event that honors a true legend of the game—Arnold Palmer. Over the coming weeks, I’ll try to piece together what those pinch-me moments felt like, but there is one continued feeling that encompasses it all: gratitude.