Bitch Slap It

I worked in the federal prison system for more than half my life. It wasn't my dream career, but it payed the bills and has left me with a decent pension that should see me through quite nicely. I met a lot of real characters over the years. I got to know mobsters, hit men, sexual sadists and murderers. Some of them, I got to know quite well.

One guy I got to know quite well was a hit man. He wasn't exactly a noble character. But he had his own code and seemed true to it. He even went to authorities in later life and confessed to a murder just to get it off his chest. He was a guy who, if you caught him, pled guilty. He even pled guilty, as it turns out, when you didn't catch him. He was also hard as nails. 

One day, he admitted to me that he had "bitch slapped" another convict who really had it coming. This con had been picking on another inmate, and was spreading false rumours about him. The hit man decided that enough was enough, and whacked him with the back of his left hand, knocking him pretty much senseless. The "slapee" apparently had it coming and was not interested in saying who had tuned him up. He felt duly chastened and wanted to try to forget the whole thing. The hit man was upset only by the fact that he had broken his watch when he whacked the guy.

In the pen, and I suppose anywhere, getting bitch-slapped is quite a disturbing experience. Not only does it apparently hurt like hell, but it hurts your pride. Essentially, the guy slapping you is also telling you that you're not worth punching. A bitch slap will suffice.

I tell this story because you can pack quite a wallop with a back-handed slap. In fact, that's how Bobby Jones described the golf swing--a "back-handed strike with the left hand." I just posted a video today where Jordan Spieth essentially explained that this was how he struck the ball as well.

Last night I played in our Thursday Night league and, with a very abbreviated swing because of my back, was moving it out there pretty well in the estimation of one of my fellow players. He asked me how I was able to do this being as crippled as I obviously was, and given how short my swing was. I told him that I was just bitch-slapping that ball with my left hand.

I'm not sure he understood as well as he might have had he seen the con who'd been bitch-slapped. But, anyway, that's what I was doing. I was bitch-slapping that damned ball.

Even When You Lose

I played a match with Steve and Spiros today. 

The first thing I noticed that was different was that Steve was putting cross-handed, or left-hand-low. I've never seen him putt that way before; and he started by sinking a fifteen footer on one to save his par and halve the hole. On two, Steve sunk a bomb of at least forty feet for birdie to give the boys a one up lead. 

On three, our number one handicap hole, Steve hit his second shot into some heavy cabbage about forty yards short and right of the green. He promptly hit a pitch that almost went in the hole, and halved the hole with par. Steve-O, it seemed, had turned into a damned short game wizard literally overnight.

However, after pulling his tee shot long, left and out of bounds, Steve made a triple bogey six on the par three fourth. In the past, this sudden lapse on Steve's part would be something designed to send him crashing back to his version reality; namely that the run of good play was certain to end. But today was indeed a different day. He continued to chip, pitch, and putt the eyeballs out of it and went out in three over. The match was all square at the turn.

I made a nice par on ten, which is really our toughest hole, to go one up. But I quickly gave it back making a triple bogey of my own on eleven with some real messy play, including a really dumb second shot into the trees on the right. On twelve, Steve chipped in for another birdie. I was lying three and had yet to even make the green when Steve holed his chip, so the hole was lost. But, not to be outdone, I stood up and chipped mine in as well to save par.

On thirteen, I managed to hit it in the pond off the tee--that's about the fourth time this year I've done that--and made another bogey. But fortunately, the boys also bogeyed, so the hole was halved. Steve and I halved fourteen with pars, and then, when I failed to get up and down on fifteen, Steve won the hole with another solid up and down for par. The boys were two up with three to play.

On sixteen, Steve hit his second shot into the right rough and then pulled off a miraculous five iron bump and run using a five iron from about 120 yards, under some tree branches, through some rough, and up onto the green. He narrowly missed his birdie putt, which would won the match, and we halved with par fives. The boys were now dormie with two to play.

I won seventeen with a par, and then hit a terrific tee shot on the par three eighteenth. We couldn't see it finish because of it being a back pin that was hidden by the swale in the middle of the green. But we knew it was going to be close. Not to be deterred, Steve stood up and hit a beautiful shot with his 27 degree hybrid right at the pin. When we got to the green, I was about eight feet left of the pin, and Steve was about four feet right of it. We were both pin high, but I had a downhiller and Steve was nicely under the hole.

I made my birdie putt, leaving Steve his four-footer for a half on the hole and the win. Sure enough, he stood up to that putt with his new grip and rolled it straight in for another birdie and the match. You just had to smile. Birdies on eighteen are definitely not a dime a dozen in Picton.

It turned out that Steve came home in 38, for a round of 77. I, on the other hand, had come home in 39, after going out in 38, for 77 as well. It was the best round I've seen Steve play. Despite that disappointing triple bogey on four, after his terrific start to the round, Steve just hung in there and used his new-and-improved short game to make a pretty damned good score. 

Now, as someone who has appointed himself as Steve's coach, I'd love to take some credit for Steve's improved play. But the fact is he figured it out himself. It was his idea to go left-hand-low with the putter. And his improved play around the greens with his wedges is down to him going out in the evening and practising. Furthermore, I didn't offer Steve one piece of advice during that round. Why would I? It's not legal during a match for one thing. And, for another, I was too busy trying to beat his ass.

As for Spiros, it was a thoroughly forgettable round. It was pretty much a struggle all day. He did, however, manage to saw me off on at least one or two holes to contribute to the winning cause. Match play is fun when it's close--even when you lose. 

The Magic Words

Short game. Those are the magic words. Anyone who has been around the game long enough will tell you what Bobby Jones wrote, namely that the secret to playing good golf is the ability to turn three shots into two. And you do that with your short game, Mister.

Average players worry about how far they hit it. Good players are concerned with their play on and around the greens. They know that the ability to chip and putt can cover a multitude of sins. Take today for example: I played the first three holes, missing every green. I was also in a bunker on the par three second hole. My score after those three holes was one under par. And I didn't make a putt over four feet. Now that is rather unusual for me. But it isn't so unusual for really good players. They regularly use their wedges and their putter to find a way to score; even when they can't find fairways or hit greens.

Why were we talking about Jordan Spieth this Sunday? It wasn't because of how far he was hitting it--though he hit it far enough, thank you. It was because of his unbelievable short game. Short game. I think it was Harvey Penick that said: "Those are the magic words." Harvey also said, for those of you who are considering dropping six hundred bucks for a new driver, "the woods are full of long drivers."

Short game. It's got a nice ring to it, doesn't it? And the beauty of the short game is it only requires practice. It doesn't require strength, or great agility. Even us older budgies can develop a good short game. And we can do it with some rusty old wedges and a putter we bought out of a barrel.

Jordan Spieth Headed for Golfing Greatness

Jordan Spieth is back in the news after his dramatic win at the Travellers Championship. That holed bunker shot has surely been viewed, and viewed again, ad infinitum on the net; and he's once again golf's wunderkind. It's all good.

I have been really bullish on Spieth from day one, when I first saw him play on the tour in Texas as a sixteen year old. I have touted him as the best player in the game, and essentially the "can't miss kid," for years now. I must admit that I soured on him a bit after he backed out of the Rio games. But I suppose it was more his loss than mine. Let's face it, the kid's seemingly destined to be one of golf's all-time greats. And, if an Olympic gold isn't that important to him, I guess that's his business not mine.

He's the total package. With ten wins now by the age of 23, including two Majors, he is comparable only to Tiger. No one else has managed it, including even the Golden Bear and my golfing hero, Bobby Jones. So, I guess there's not much more to be said. If he remains healthy, keeps the fire in his belly, and doesn't fiddle too much with his swing, Jordan Spieth will surely not only be in the Hall of Fame,  he'll be mentioned in the same breath as the greatest of the great ones. It's pretty much a given.

The obvious next step for Jordan is an Open championship and a PGA championship to complete the career Slam. He's obviously capable of doing it. And, if he can, he joins a very short list of golfing greats. You can bet he's now all-systems-go for the Open at Royal Birkdale next month. And I suppose I wouldn't bet against him. 

One of the things I really like about Spieth--and, of course, there is much to like--is his swing. He has a natural swing. It's not a swing made in the image of anyone else. And it's not a violent swing that relies on too much torque. It's a swing that should keep him from experiencing the back problems and other injuries that have plagued guys like Tiger, Rory, Jason Day, and even DJ--though DJ seems to get injured off the course more than on it. Spieth's swing seems, to me at least, to be built to last.

I think Jordan will be able to achieve longevity in the game that I don't see happening for Day and McIlroy. In fact, I don't think Day or McIlroy really have the desire to spend thirty years or more between the ropes. And ultimately, according to Jack Nicklaus, desire is probably the biggest factor there is in achieving greatness in this game. The real key in the future will be how much Spieth continues to want it.

There are lots of terrific players out there; and there are more coming along every day. To achieve greatness in the game, especially now adays with the ever-increasing number of talented players, desire will be key. It's painfully obvious that Spieth has it in spades. His performance this week serves only to remind us of that. Let's hope he keeps it.

Fifty Yards and In

It's been said that, for many of us, the older we get, the better we used to be. At least that's the way we think. 

As golfers, we all get older and eventually get to the stage where we can't move it out there as far as we once did. You wake up one morning and a shot that was once a routine pitching wedge is more like a solid eight iron. It can play with your pumpkin. It can also affect your pocket book if you keep getting conned into buying the latest and greatest driver, or those "hot" new irons; trying, usually in vain, to gain a few yards back.

The fact is, however, that sometimes our memories with respect how good, or how long, we used to be are a bit faulty. But, even if the memories are true, and we really did used to be real pistols on the golf course, there's no saying we can't keep playing reasonably good golf, and perhaps even get better than we once were.

I used to be a long hitter. I know that's the oldest story in the book, but I do have a few long drive trophies collecting dust somewhere. But, I've discovered that the positive side of getting shorter off the tee is that I'm now wearing out golf balls instead of losing them. As Harvey Penick said, "The woods are full of long drivers." The "drive for show, putt for dough" saying has stuck because it really is true. Length is an asset. But length won't win you any money if you can't chip and putt. And, as older folk, we generally have more time to work on our chipping and putting than we ever had.

Most pros will tell you that where most average golfers really begin to throw away shots is when they get near the green. It's true. Good golfers find a way to, more often than not, turn three shots into two around the greens. They pitch and chip it close enough from around the greens to regularly save their pars. 

When you observe many average golfers, most of them can usually get the ball within fifty yards of the green in regulation--two shots on the par fours. Sure, there are the wild drivers who waste strokes off the tee and have to check themselves for ticks after every round; but most average golfers can do a reasonable job of staying on the golf course. Some aren't long enough to reach the longer par fours. But I think the fifty yard idea applies for most struggling players. If they could only develop a good game from fifty yards and in, they could most likely break 80. 

I like to play with just a six iron and a putter sometimes. When you try this, if you are an average player, you may be surprised by the results. Ken and I played a round not that long ago where we agreed we would use nothing stronger than a six iron. I didn't play particularly well, but still shot 81--I actually shot 73 one time playing our "inside nine" twice with just a six iron and a putter. 

Ken saw no real difference in his score when just using the six iron off the tee. What this tells me--because I think Ken's experience is quite typical--is that the short game is the biggest factor for the average player in determining how well they score. An advanced player gains benefits from being able to hit it long enough, and well enough, to hit fairways and greens in regulation, and the odd par five in two. But, with the six iron experiment, you generally see that it's really the short game ability that holds back the average player. Losing distance from the tee had little or no affect on Ken's score. He was still frittering away most of his shots around the greens.

Most average players want to hit the ball farther. Way more golfing instruction is geared towards helping average players gain distance than to helping them score. Too bad most golfers don't feel quite as embarrassed about their play around the greens as they do about their perceived lack of distance off the tee. I would really recommend that most players try the six iron challenge. It can be an eye opener.

Fifty yards from the green and in is where the poor players really throw away shots. If you can improve in that area, you'd be surprised at what you might be able to shoot. And it won't cost you a dime.

Quinte Cup Matches

Have you ever had that thought, "I've got it"? Where, after struggling with your game, you find something that clicks and you feel like you finally have at least some idea about what you're doing on the golf course? I suddenly have that feeling again. Of course, I may very well go out the next time and not know whether to crap or wind my watch. That's how this game is. But, at least for now, I seem to have some idea about what I'm doing. I only hope it lasts.

I played in the Quinte Cup today and, despite being half-crippled, used my new-found confidence to win all three of my matches. You know what they say: "Beware of the injured golfer." 

The format this year was to play three 18-hole matches simultaneously. It may sound a bit odd. But it tends to work out okay once you get used to it. Two of my matches were won, actually a bit too easily, at 8 and 6 against Hugh from Napanee GC; and 7 and 6 against Bob from Trenton town GC. Both fellows were great company and played the matches in a congenial spirit. But, sadly, no one really enjoys those sort of matches--even the winner. The beauty of match play is that it is an experience that you share with another player. If your opponent is congenial and respectful, and the match is hard-fought, it really can be very special. In fact, it can even be unforgettable.

My third match was against an old adversary, Mike Bunn, from Roundel Glen, formerly the Canadian Forces Base golf course in Trenton. I say "adversary," but there was and is really nothing at all adversarial between us except that we both definitely want to beat eachother. And that is how a match should be: both players trying their very best to win in a friendly atmosphere.

I was really happy to learn that I was playing Mike today, because I have good memories of past encounters with him in the Quinte Cup. I have fond memories of them; and yet, I can't really remember that well how they all went--I know he beat me once at Trenton town, and I know I got him once or twice--but I do remember they were all hard-fought, fun affairs. Mike is a great character, with a wry sense of humour, and we really enjoy taking the mickey out of eachother.

I started out by making a thirty-footer for birdie on one to take the lead. And I was never down in any of my matches after that. But in my match with Mike I was never up more than two. Teeing off on the tough seventeenth, I was one up after losing the fifteenth. When I managed to get it up and down for par and Mike failed to do the same, the match was over. Still, it was a close match, and could have gone either way--just the way I like them.

When I look back on it, there were several turning points in the match, but perhaps the key one was when I was one up on the par five fourteenth and then managed to hit my tee shot straight into a strategically placed tree that stands pretty much right in the middle of the freaking fairway about fifty yards from the tee. My ball ended up behind the forward tees; and you know what that means--dick out. However, after two decent shots from there, I was pin high but left of the green in three. Mike, meanwhile, had hit two good shots and was left with a pitch of about fifty yards to the uphill green. He was, however, sitting in some spongy grass, and when he struck the shot he somehow managed to do a TC Chen and double-whack it. He was shaken, rather than stirred, and eventually had a putt for eight when he conceded my short putt for six. He had been in a good spot to square the match and instead allowed me to limp to the next tee two up. That's sometimes the way it goes in this crazy game; and especially in match play.

Incidentally, Mike really enjoyed the last laugh, because his team ended up winning and taking the cup from us--last year's winners--and home to Roundel Glen. I was really exhausted driving home after the excellent meal provided by our hosts in Napanee; and was almost immediately asleep in my chair. It's amazing how match play takes it out of you. There really is nothing quite like it.

Bobby Jones on Attitude and Putting

Bobby Jones was obviously a heckuva putter. He did, however, recognize that where golfers had most improved years after he had retired was on the greens. Now, whether this was because of the fact that they were simply putting on better greens, or that they were more skilled in the art of putting is probably a subject for debate. Certainly, Bobby never saw greens the like of which tour players putt on weekly. But he was in awe of top players' ability to manage themselves on the greens nevertheless.

Bobby was more of the view that putting was an art, rather than a science. Even on the billiard table-like greens the pros are now putting, luck continues to play a role. And so does attitude. Consider what Bobby had to say about the latter in his book, Bobby Jones on Golf:

    "When you see a man obviously trying to guide the short putt, or hitting quickly with a short, stabbing stroke, even though he may hole a few, it will not be long before he meets trouble. A short putt, even as a long one, must be struck with a smooth, unhurried, and confident stroke. The best way to accomplish this is to decide upon a line to the hole and to determine to hit the ball on that line and let it go hang if it wants to. I have never had any better advice in golf, from tee to green, than was contained in a telegram sent me by Stewart Maiden in 1919. It read: 'Hit 'em hard. They'll land somewhere.' You must not apply this advice literally to putting, but its application is obvious. Hit the putt as well as you can, and do not allow worry over the outcome to spoil the stroke... 

     We would all profit greatly if we could cultivate this attitude toward putts of all lengths; it ought to be easy, too, for we all know, or should know by this time, that worry does very little good. If we must be wrong, we may as well make our mistakes gracefully by choosing the wrong line as by allowing a nervous, overcareful stroke to pull the ball off direction."

Bobby goes on to speak about something else that should cause any worrier, or perfectionist, on the putting green to think twice:

    "Let me say here that I do not believe any man can be so accurate in striking a golf ball, or so uncannily precise in his judgement of speed, borrow, roll, and all other things that go to make a perfect putt, that he can propel a ball over ten yards of uneven turf with such unerring certainty that it will find a spot the size of the hole. There are so many factors to be taken into account that the skill required is simply beyond me.

     I wonder how many putts that are holed follow exactly the path laid out for them in the player's mind. I should say that as many of those that go down deviate from that path as follow it. It appears to me that the good putter is simply the man who can keep coming close--who gets more times within a one-foot radius--and that such a man holes more putts because of the greater number that come close, a greater number more likely will go in."

I doubt anyone has worried, or fretted, about their putting any more than I have over the years. I have always felt that I should be making more putts. But perhaps the answer lies, not in a new Scotty Cameron, or a new grip, or stroke; perhaps the answer lies in a better and more realistic attitude. In putting, like just about everything else, attitude means a lot.