play by what he is doing; if he is in a bunker, by attempting a long carry off the tee, you play short and run no risks, but that is for that hole only; the position is reversed the next hole, and you have to go for a gallery stroke, for your rival is on the green in two, and unless you are also, you probably lose the hole. The apostolic precept that you are to forget the things that are behind, and press forward to those that are before, is to be observed in all golf, but it is far easier to carry this into practice in hole play than it is in medal play. If you play one hole so badly that it takes ten strokes to hole out, you have probably put yourself out of the reckoning as far as winning the medal is concerned, but the same play in a match only means the loss of one hole, a mere trifle. In medal play, consequently, though it may not be difficult to press forward, it is very difficult to forget what is behind if you have played one hole so badly.
This is the chief reason why medal play is neither so interesting to watch nor so pleasant to engage in as hole or match play—the one produces a dull, level style of game, with few flashes of