Don't Hurry, Don't Worry

Walter Hagen famously said, "You're only here for a short visit. Don't hurry, don't worry. And be sure to smell the flowers along the way." It was great advice for living and for playing golf. Worrying and hurrying are two things that can ruin your swing and your game.

With respect to the golf swing, Bobby Jones said that no one ever swung the club too slowly. And he identified two points where most golf swings go wrong--the takeaway and the first move from the top. If the takeaway and the change of direction from the top can be accomplished in a leisurely fashion, good things can happen.

How many times, especially when it's a difficult shot, haven't I taken the club back nice and slowly, only to lurch at the ball from the top and ruin the shot. Hurrying the strike is a killer. There is, after all, no need to hurry. The ball isn't going anywhere. 

But Bobby Jones also said that many golfers think they are concentrating when, in fact, they are only worrying. And worry causes physical as well as mental tension. Tense muscles don't help the golf swing. They might be good for bending iron bars, but they don't make the club head move faster.

Someone said, "you don't play golf to relax; you relax to play golf." There's a distinct difference. We want to be engaged in our golf game. We don't want to relax, we need to try to play as well as we possibly can every time we tee it up. It is in the throwing yourself wholeheartedly into the playing of the game that we derive the most benefit from it. But, again as Bobby Jones said, we must fight tension whetever it may be found when we are swinging the golf club. A relaxed body can really whip that club through the impact zone.

So, I think the Haig's motto is a great one for us golfers. Don't hurry, don't worry. Pick your shot, take the club back slowly and leisurely, and make that change of direction nice and smooth. And while you're walking or riding the course, stop and smell the flowers. Enjoy the birds, the trees, the deer, even the gators, you come across in your travels on the links. We are, after all, only here for a short visit.

Kingston Heath the Winner

I haven't watched much golf of late, but tuned in to the World Cup being played this week at Kingston Heath down under. What a wonderful golf course by Alistair McKenzie; fantastic, natural-looking bunkering, firm faurways, firm, fast greens, and still a great test of golf for the world's best players. Remember the good old days when golf courses were built to walk and not to sell real estate? 

Playing alternate shot the first day we saw the American team of Rickie Fowler and PGA champion Jimmy Walker, despite some iffy ball-striking, put on a short-game clinic to be one back of the Spanish team at two under along with the French, the up-and-coming team from China.

In his post round interview Jimmy Walker summed up the beauty of great designs like Kingston Heath when he said, "That's what's fun about this place; you've got options. It's however you want to play." Great courses give you options. They force you to think and strategize. And they demand a great short game if you are going to score. 

There are some terrific players assembled in Melbourne. And it's likely going to be a battle to the end. But the real winner has already been established; and that is Kingston Heath. I hope some day to be lucky enough to get down under and play some of those wonderful sandbelt courses around Melbourne. Until then, I've always got Pinehurst within driving distance.

Develop Your Own Style

There's more than one way to skin a cat--I don't know where that expression comes from, never having tried to skin a cat myself, and not being acquainted with anyone who actually has skinned a cat. But in golf there is definitely more than one way to get the job done. 

Golf leaves plenty of room for everyone to develop their own particular method, or style. Consider what Bobby Jones wrote in his book Bobby Jones on Golf under the subject, Developing a Style:

    "More than fine-spun theories, the average golfer needs something to give him a clearer conception of what he should try to do with the club head. The golf swing is a set or series of movements that must be clearly correlated. The smallest change in any one will make a difference in one or more of the others, and although for consistent, high-class performance there can be only a small deviation in any particular, it is still a fact, and always will be so, that there are more ways than one of swinging a club effectively.

     I do not intend to argue against the development of a good sound method, but I do believe that this method should be put together with due regard for the requirements and swing preferences of the individual. I also think that before a player should begin to worry about the finer points of form, he should play enough to know what his preferences are...

     We talk, think, and write so much about the details of the stroke that we sometimes lose sight of the one thing that is all-important--hitting the ball. It is conceivable that a person could perform all sorts of contortions and yet bring the club into correct relation to the ball at impact, in which case a good shot must result. The only reason for discussing method and form at all is to find a way to make it easier for the player to achieve the correct relationship. In a crude way, he might do it only occasionally; in a finished, sound, controlled way, he will be able to do it consistently and with assurance."

Bobby then went on to discuss the difference between his method and that of Harry Vardon. He concluded this way:

     "This is the sense every golfer must develop. The beginner ought to keep always before him the determination to put the club against the ball in the correct position. It is not easy when form is lacking, but it is the surest way to cause form to be more easily acquired. The expert player corrects subconsciously, some instantaneous telegraphic system tells him, just as he begins to hit, that something is wrong; and at the last instant a muscle that may not always function perfectly will do so in a sufficient number of cases for it to be well worth its keep."

So for the beginner, and the golfer who finds himself struggling with the game, Bobby Jones offers some great advice. Develop your own style of putting the club head on the ball. Keep the strike always at the forefront and you will find, through trial and error, the way that works best for you. 

Links Golf

I played Jerry Pate's Kiva Dunes today in a wind high enough to result in a small craft warning. It's a grand course. And it is a links course. But still, compared to the British links courses, I find it pales. Too much evidence of the hand of man in the design, and forced carries and bunkering that would make it an extremely difficult and unpleasant test for a high handicapper. I'm of the view that a great course must not just be a great test of golf, it must also be enjoyable to play for all level of golfers. 

There is golf, and there is British links golf. British links golf will always be the best kind of golf to play and, for my money, the Open will always be the best one to win. Now, I realize that my opinion doesn't amount to much, so I thought I'd share what Walter Hagen had to say on the subject. in his book, The Walter Hagen Story, the Haig had this to say:

    "For the second time the British links had defeated me. Here in America we have developed the finest of man-made courses in the world, but the real test of a golfer is a seaside links in the British Isles. Situated close beside the ocean, beset with rolling sand dunes and winds that whip off the channel and the seas, conditions change with the tide. The hazards are far greater than meet the eye. At Deal I had played shots where the wind picked the ball up and almost slapped it back in my face. At St Andrews I learned that distance was secondary to placing the ball accurately. I learned, also, that in order to be at the top of the golf profession, I must be able to play any course in the world in par."

The Haig learned to play links golf well enough to win four British Opens. 

A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words

Kathryn found me the autobiography The Walter Hagen Story yesterday at a Goodwill. Naturally I couldn't wait to see what the Haig had to say about life and dug into it last night. 

Walter Hagen was definitely a colourful character. He was a crowd favourite who admittedly played to the crowd, making easy shots appear difficult and difficult shots appear easy. He very quickly established himself as a force to be reckoned with when he won the US Open on his second try. He never looked back.

Hagen was soon able to charge $200 an hour for lessons. This was a time when two hundred bucks was two hundred bucks! As with most other things, the Haig approached giving lessons somewhat differently from most teachers. He would let his pupil hit a few shots, then he would grab the club and say, "This is how you do it." The student would then, whether he or she liked it or not, be treated to an hour of watching the Haig hit shots. Sounds like a pretty good way to teach. We would all likely gain more just watching a top player hit shots than having him try to tell us how to hit them. A picture is, after all, worth a thousand words.

Tinkeritis

Bobby Jones' father, Mr Robert Tyre Jones Sr., and I seem to have been afflicted with the same golfing disease. We were, and in my case still are, afflicted with tinkeritis. We tinker with our swing when we are supposed to be playing golf. My old father had the same disease. I think it's quite common in golfing circles.

Bobby wrote about his father in his book Golf is my Game. I think it's worth sharing as it may--but probably won't--help other similarly afflicted. Tinkeritis is a serious disease that, if left untreated, can simply ruin your game. Bobby wrote:

    "One of the greatest gifts golf gave me was the enjoyment of many years of playing association with my father. We started to play the game about the same time, and from the time I was thirteen or fourteen we had the same golfing companions. On one occasion he and I met in the finals of the club championship. In later years we played together two or three times a week.

     For many years the offices of our law firm were arranged so that there was an inside connecting door between Dad's office and mine. I used to stop by for him in the mornings so that we arrived at the office together.

     Almost invariably immediately after we reached the office, Dad would appear through this inside door, carefully close the door from my office to the hall, select a club from several I had in the corner, and confront me across the top of my desk, 'Here's something I discovered the other day. See what you think of it,' he would say.

     Whereupon he would demonstrate, and I would comment--as briefly as possible, I admit--in order that we both might get some work done.

     But Dad was a dedicated golfer. He always seemed to think he was on the verge of discovering the secret of the game. It cost him untold agony, but he loved it. The secret he had shown me in the morning never worked in the afternoon, but he always discovered a new one on the seventeenth hole and went home happy and with something to show me the next morning.

     There might have been other things wrong with these secrets, but the fact is that they were never given a chance. The golf course in the midst of a round is no place to experiment or try anything new. The only place for that is the practice tee, and Dad never went to the practice tee before a round.

     We hear a lot these days about the repetitive or repeating golf swing. It seems to be a new term in the golfing jargon. Obviously, like the semi-automatic shotgun, it is a fine idea. If a golfer could only set himself in the same position each time and, by pulling a mental trigger, release the identical swing, he would be a happy fellow. Even though the swing might be bad, at least he would know where to look for the ball.

     The struggle for good form in golf has purpose, because a sound, simplified swing can perform with greater regularity. But one of the eternal beauties of the game is that it will never be susceptible to such rigid control. The feel of the club is altered from day to day by changes in the weather, and the player's senses respond differently because of the myriad of influences within his own make-up. It is important to test out this feel every day, either before the round or as early as possible in the play...

     If I should be limited to one piece of advice to offer to a golfer before the start of a round, it would be, 'Take your time'. And it would mean to take your time and to avoid hurry in everything; to walk to the first tee and from shot to shot at a leisurely pace; to pause before each stroke long enough to make a considered appraisal before deciding on the shot to play; and, above all, to take a little more time if things should begin to go wrong."

Tinkeritis is particularly prevalent among players like myself who don't tend to go to the practice tee. I figure I've only got so many more swings left in me; and besides, if I haven't figured it out by now, chances are I won't find it by hitting a bucket of balls. Like Bobby's father, I tend not to give things a chance. If I hit a couple of stinkers I immediately try another swing. I do this knowing full well that it's the strike that is the only thing that counts in the end.

I played today with the same swing all day. I hit some stinkers and a couple of beauties, but in the end your score invariably comes down to how well you chip and putt. Today my putting stunk and so did my score. But then part of the problem may have been my switching back and forth between looking at the hole and looking at the ball. I think I'll stick with looking at the hole if I can because it helps with distance control and stops me watching the putter head go back, which is a cardinal sin.

As Bobby advises, we need to restrict our tinkering to the range. Once we're on the course the only thing we need to think about is finding our rhythm and getting the ball in the hole in as few swings as possible. In golf it's all about how many, not how.

Two Hours and Fifteen Minutes

I played at Glen Lakes with Gary yesterday. He's from Ohio, but spends his winters in Foley, Alabama. We both enjoyed the golf course but struggled on the greens most of the day. Whether it was grain on those Bermuda greens that was confusing us Northerners, or just lack of concentration, we couldn't seem to buy a putt.

This was Gary's first time playing Glen Lakes. He had an amusing story about playing at a new course with one of his buddies. At the the first tee, trying to break the ice, his buddy asked the stern-faced starter what the course record was.

The starter growled, "Two hours and fifteen minutes. So, move your asses."

Gary, CJ and I played in about three hours today in spite of a couple teeing off in front of us on the back nine as we made the turn. Our golf may not have been anything to write home about, but that starter would have been impressed.