By Rahil Gangjee
Golfers are strange creatures. We can read a green from 40 feet away but completely fail to read the warning signs in our own bodies. Pain? Tightness? Swelling? Must be a “small niggle.” Golfer translation: “I’ll worry about it after the round… or after the season… or never.”
My ankle, however, does not speak golfer. It speaks very clear, very fluent “STOP.”
It first staged a full-blown strike in 2022 after months of hopping across time zones like a golf-playing migratory bird. Eight months of rest followed—an eternity for any pro. Back then, I thought life as I knew it was over. What was I going to do without tournaments? What would my clubs think of this betrayal?
But rest, apparently, is nature’s steroids. When I returned, I played some of my best golf—stronger, calmer, and actually sleeping at normal human hours. Turns out, love, family, and proper food do wonders when you’re not living out of a suitcase.
Fast-forward to 2025, and the ankle has resurfaced again. The good news? This time, I caught it early. No dramatic collapse, no eight-month exile, no existential crisis about becoming a full-time couch philosopher. Just a clear message from the universe:
“Son, pause. Not stop.”
The golfer-injury club (Lifetime Membership, No Annual Fee)
If it makes me feel any better—and it does—golf history is basically one long injury-comeback highlight reel.
Exhibit A: Tiger Woods. The man survived a 2021 car crash that doctors weren’t sure he’d even walk away from. The fact that he returned to competitive golf—let alone play the Masters—should be filed under “Miracles, Sports Division.”
Exhibit B: Rory McIlroy. In 2015, while trying his hand at football (a sport where the ball actually fights back), he tore ankle ligaments. Experts predicted a decline. Rory returned fitter, stronger, and more determined—not to give up golf for football anytime soon.
Exhibit C: Brooks Koepka. A man made of tape, titanium, and stubbornness. Knee, hip, wrist… Brooks has injured everything except his competitive spirit. And he still came back to win the PGA Championship in 2023.
Compared to these legends, my ankle is just acting like a moody teenager occasionally needing attention.
God’s Whisper… Or Shout?
Last time, I wondered, “Why me?” This time, I heard the answer. “You’ve toiled enough, beta. Put your feet up.”
In 2022, I ignored the early signs. This time, I acted early, which means the damage is nowhere near the first round. I’ve become older, wiser, and surprisingly receptive to the idea of… slowing down.
(Not retiring. Let’s not get carried away.)
A Small Anecdote From the ‘Rest Era’
During my long layoff in 2022-23, I decided to “stay involved in golf” by giving a few tips to a friend at the driving range. Just tips. No swinging. That was the plan.
The moment I stepped onto the mat, the universe sent a clear signal: My friend, who hadn’t swung a club in six months, piped his very first drive dead-straight, 20 yards past my average carry.
I swear my injured ankle twitched out of pure jealousy.
There I was—brace on, doctor’s orders in the pocket—applauding him like a proud coach. But inside, every cell in my body screamed, “Give me a club RIGHT NOW.”
But I didn’t. For the first time in my career, I walked away from a driving range without hitting a single shot.
And the funny thing? That moment taught me more discipline than any coach ever has. Sometimes the biggest victories happen when you don’t swing.
The Forced-Pause Advantage
Ask Tiger, Rory, Brooks—or any golfer forced into timeout—what rest really does:
It resets you.
When you move endlessly from airport to airport, tournament to tournament, life becomes a blur. A break slows everything down. You start noticing things—normal human things.
Breakfast that isn’t eaten in fast-forward. Conversations that don’t end with “…early tee time tomorrow.” Sleep that isn’t jet-lagged. People who care even when you’ve three-putted. These things reset you.
Injury as a Life Coach
I’ve begun to believe injuries are life’s way of saying: “Take a timeout, regroup, return stronger.”
If Tiger can come back from near-disaster, if Rory can bounce back from a tackle gone wrong, and if Koepka can reassemble himself like a Marvel character, then surely an ankle flare-up caught early is not a tragedy—it’s an intermission.
Last time, the break resurrected my game. This time, it might elevate it further.
The Comeback Script Has Already Begun
I’m resting now—properly resting. Not the golfer version (“rest” = hit putts indoors for three hours). No. Feet up. Ice on. Swing offline.
I’ve learned my lesson. And somewhere in this quiet phase, I can feel that familiar fire returning.
So yes, I’m out for a bit. But if history is any guide—especially my own—this little pause might just be setting the stage for something exciting.
After all, the great golfers didn’t just win majors—they won their battles with injuries first.
And I plan to keep that tradition alive.
Rahil Gangjee is a professional golfer, sharing through this column what life on a golf course is like