Sometimes telling the truth is tough. Other times it’s really, really tough – particularly when you know it’ll cost you.

Being honest cost Rui Li, a junior golfer at Kentwood High School in Covington, WA, a second-place medal in last year’s state tournament. Actually, unwittingly signing an incorrect scorecard is what disqualified her from the tournament.

In the final round, Li was partnered with her good friend, Sadena Parks. On the final hole, Li nearly hit out of bounds. She made two tricky shots to finish strong. Keeping score for each other per tournament rules, Parks said, “Nice birdie,” and marked a “3” on her partner’s scorecard. Li congratulated her friend and fellow golfer on the championship, signed the scorecard and turned it in.

Even though the last hole felt like a birdie, both Li and Parks had forgotten about the extra shot Li took to punch her ball back on the fairway after hitting into the trees, meaning she actually scored a par 4.

Minutes later, after being congratulated for saving a par (not a birdie!) on the hole, Li realized the error. Knowing the consequences, she didn’t hesitate in reporting the incorrect score to the pro shop. And, as she suspected, Li was disqualified and forced to give up her second-place medal.

What Li did was admirable. I suspect most teens would have made dust after making such a realization. Surely some would ‘fess up, but not without muddling diatribe toward their scorekeeper. Li fearlessly accepted responsibility, which awarded her a solid marveling from her coach and plenty of recognition for doing the right thing.

While forfeiting the medal must have been painful, not to mention frustrating and heart-breaking, others can learn a valuable lesson from Li’s situation:

Lesson #1: Be honest.
Li’s situation had three likely outcomes:
A.) Attempt to keep the inaccuracy a secret. At some point somewhere, someone would discover and announce the error, damaging Li’s reputation as a golfer and an individual.

B.) Successfully keep the inaccuracy a secret. In her room, she’d hang the medal for which she should be proud. For the rest of her life, the sight of the medal would rekindle the terrible feeling she had of realizing an error, failing to report it and illegitimately taking home the award.

C.) Inform an official of the mistake and forfeit the medal. Though she would feel like a clown and would be the butt of many jokes, she would be admired by her peers and her coach for being so truthful. Instead of feeling guilty, she’d feel proud for doing what she knew was best.

In the words of William Shakespeare, “No legacy is so rich as honesty.” Being honest left Li with a legacy she could be proud of.

Lesson #2: Ramp up the accountability.
The warnings and disclaimers plastered on every available product for purchase is proof that nobody wants to be held accountable. “CAUTION: HOT” is printed on every beverage you order that is warmer than room temperature. Warnings on mats at the gym read, “WARNING: Doing physical activity on this mat may result in injury.” In other words, any person attempting their first back handspring on the mat is not allowed to sue the company when they land on their head and break their neck.

Finding a scapegoat comes naturally. Taking credit for a mishap – or in Li’s instance, an oversight – is not a situation that has the mistaken throwing a party and inviting friends. But rather than blowing a gasket in the clubhouse and threatening to break the scorekeeper’s kneecaps, it’s best to absorb the fault and let it go.

Lesson #3: Be sure.
Double check – triple check – to ensure things have been done correctly. A quick five-second look-over can save you a lot of time – or frustration – in the future.

Now, I should be honest. I’m not claiming to have never cheated my way through a round of golf. I’ll admit I’ve taken my fair share of mulligans, purposely failed to count my whiffs and have picked up and thrown the ball more times than I’ve swung at it. However, I check, double check, and triple check that no one is watching. And if I’m caught in the act, I admit it and take full responsibility.

But golf is just a game, and while life can be viewed as “just” a game, I would hope that honesty isn’t as much of a rarity in your life as a low golf score (whiffs, mulligans and ball tosses included) is in mine.

Shootin’ the Wit is a weekly column about everyday life that should never, ever be taken too seriously.