I am not a golfer.

If I know one thing about my athletic prowess, it’s that golf does not suit me.

It’s not that I tried once and stopped. I get out on the course a few times a year and hack until my hands are raw. The problem is that I am to golf what Mario Mendoza is to baseball.

Every time I grace the first tee box with my presence, I think maybe this time it won’t be so bad. Maybe my athleticism from playing high-school basketball and volleyball might translate.

It never does, though. So I’m left wondering why a game that John Daly excels at manhandles me.

After the Iowa women’s golf team’s home tournament, the Hawkeye Invitational, this past weekend, I think I may have diagnosed my problem. And it has nothing to do with my (lack of) golf skill.

Emotions are my biggest obstacle. And this is coming from a guy who’s had a girlfriend get upset with him for not showing enough emotion (let’s hope she’s not reading).

After I routinely slice my first tee shot into the adjacent fairway, I tell myself it’s just the first hole — plenty of time to rebound and get my Bubba Watson drives going.

After five more holes, which is more of me watching my ball take 90-degree right turns and maybe some worm-burners, I start to get frustrated.

My definition of golf frustration is this: I want to chuck everything in my golf bag into the algae-laden pond as I acquire super-human powers so I can crush all my golf balls with bare hands and melt my putter with laser vision.

Someone like me, a person who knows and accepts he is atrocious, gets furious at a game. How does a collegiate player, someone who can shoot consistently below 80 — something I will never do unless they shorten golf courses by four holes — not get royally ticked when things go South?

The key is to not think about the game between swings. That’s not easily achieved because you are constantly reminded you are playing golf as you walk down a fairway, or feel the weight of your clubs on your back.

For the Iowa women’s golf team, though, assistant coach John Owens serves as a distraction from the round of play.

Every time I saw Owens walking with players during the tournament, he managed to keep the women smiling. From the moment the ball hit the ground after the shot, to the moment the players needed to focus on their next shot, Owens administered that much-needed diversion.

Even professionals need someone to take their minds off the game.

I’ve talked to former professional caddy Joe George, a lecturer in the Tippie College of Business, about his experiences caddying for Brad Adamonis, then an amateur but now a professional.

George asked Adamonis during a practice round before his first time caddying for him if he had any personal rules for his caddies.

Adamonis said between shots, talk to him about anything but golf.

Is keeping your emotions from finding their way to your club the way to go from bad golfer to a very good one? Absolutely not.

But the role of coaches such as Owens, and caddies such as George, is something that seemed important for the Iowa women golfers during the Hawkeye Invitational.

Now all I need to do is find my own personal assistant who specializes in keeping me happy between slices and duffs, and I’ll break triple digits.

Well, I might need Tiger Woods’ swing coach, too — even if he couldn’t do much for Charles Barkley.