NASHVILLE, Tenn. — Standing in the fairway on the 10th hole of the most famous golf course in the world, Auston Kim sized up her next shot in this year’s Augusta National Women’s Amateur. A long par-4 that descends steeply from tee to green, the hole historically ranks among the most difficult on the course—par harder to come by than even on the subsequent holes that form Amen Corner.
Yet for a fleeting moment, Kim didn’t worry about the next shot. Or next hole. Or next round. A golfer who grew up watching the Masters with her dad, entranced by the tournament but also curious why it was only for men, she stood on the fairway and savored her surroundings. Not a blade of grass looked out of place. And she was there. Not as a guest, but as a competitor.
“I think back to that very often,” Kim recalled. “Everything that I’d done the past few years led up to that. It was really nice. It was very peaceful.”
For Kim, the moment was also a port in the storm. She was an immediate success as a collegian, earning All-America and All-SEC accolades as a freshman and similar plaudits as a sophomore. She earned opportunities to compete in the 2020 Augusta Women’s Amateur and that year’s U.S. Women’s Open, events that presumably presaged a dominant junior year for Vanderbilt.
Then the world turned upside down. The Augusta tournament was canceled early in the pandemic, her invitation put on hold for a year. The 75th U.S. Open was postponed until December. After opting out of Vanderbilt’s fall season to remain home in Florida, she overhauled her swing. Upon returning to Nashville for the second semester and spring season, little went right. Her results suffered. Her confidence wavered. Her frustration mounted.
All the turmoil still surrounded that fleeting moment of serenity in Augusta. The reprieve was temporary. Yet it was also revelatory. Pursuing excellence doesn’t prevent failure or frustration. The pursuit invites such setbacks. It is all right to struggle. It isn’t weakness.
Standing amid the famed azaleas this spring, Kim wasn’t the golfer she wanted to be. She wouldn’t find that form again for months. Perhaps that was all right. After two meteoric years put her on the map, the lessons of her longest year may prove even more valuable.
“I’m grateful for those experiences because they helped me appreciate the good moments in life,” Kim said. “And how grateful I can be to represent Vanderbilt in the classroom and on the course.”