Bobby Jones' Swing

It's interesting, at least to me, that we tend to study the swings of the great players in order to hopefully improve our own.  It is natural to want to imitate our favourite player's swing.  The problem comes, however, when we don't necessarily appreciate what it is we should be looking at, and what it is we should be trying to imitate.  For instance, a swing like Bubba Watson's, or Rory McIlroy's, should probably come with a warning that says, "Do Not Try This at Home."  These top players tend to be gifted athletes who have developed their own action after hitting thousands of balls.  But that is not to say that the great swings aren't worthy of being studied, if not actually imitated.

I must say, when watching video of Bobby Jones' swing--and admittedly I haven't watched all that much--I don't see a swing likely to be ever imitated, or seen again for that matter. 

This is certainly not because it was a mechanically unsound swing.  Obviously, it must have been a very good swing.  But, as the equipment has changed and players have become bigger and stronger, and instruction has become somewhat more advanced thanks to the assistance of technology, the golf swing has evolved and looks quite different from the swing Bobby used to win an almost unbelievable 62 percent of the Major Championships he entered over an eight year period prior to his retirement at 28.

Bobby's swing, like all good swings, relied on timing and rhythm.  Because it was a long swing, with plenty of moving parts, one might argue that timing and rhythm was very important to his success.  And Jones always favoured a long swing, not only for himself, but especially for amateurs.  Nowadays, there seems to generally be a move towards a shorter swing, with fewer moving parts.  After all, for the majority of us, particularly those of us who might not be physically gifted, there is probably less that can go wrong with a more compact, efficient swing; provided that is that shortening our swing doesn't affect our rhythm.  The fact is, so long as humans are designed as they are, as Bobby Jones aptly pointed out, the essence of a good swing will remain the same.  In golf there really never will be something that is truly "new."  The more things change, the more they remain the same.

I am already saying too much.  In my mind, the less a mug like me says, the better.  I prefer to pass along the wisdom of the great players and teachers.  However, in this article we will see what Bobby had to teach about rhythm and timing in his book Golf is my Game; and see that he actually quoted from a writer who called himself "the Roving Player."  So, occasionally, it appears a lowly roving player can write something worth reading and even repeating.  

About the swing, and rhythm and timing, Bobby wrote: "Since the immediate purpose is to provide a broad, general appreciation of the golf swing as a whole, I think it may be helpful and perhaps add conviction if I quote impressions of other writers, going back to the beginning of the century, and add a very emphatic declaration on my own part that nothing in modern-day golf has operated, or can operate, in any manner to affect the validity of these descriptions.

  Beginning in the middle, I shall quote first a description of my own method, written in 1927 by a writer who signed himself 'A Roving Player'... I present it as a very good description, if not of my own swing, certainly of that for which I strove, and one which I recommend without qualification.

  'St Andrews' people, who have golf in their very blood, are shrewd judges of players, and in Mr. Jones they see one who is a purist as regards style and method.  They are elusive because no other player has been able to copy them.  I have met golfers from all parts of the world, but none, for example, stands with feet so close together or quite so near the ball.  The effectiveness of the method is perhaps due to the fact that it is essentially natural.  Mr. Jones stands to the ball just as if he were engaged in ordinary conversation.  There is no straddling of legs, no tying of the muscles into a knot, no extravagant poses, nothing to suggest he is thinking of or doing anything in particular.  The clubhead is placed at the back of the ball, and the swing commences, so slowly in fact as to suggest that it is indolent.  Of the millions of golfers in the world, I do not suppose there is another who swings the club back so smoothly or so sweetly.  It is the very poetry of motion.

  But there is nothing indolent about the downswing.  The suggestion it gives of power, speed and momentum is majestic, while the quality of the blow itself suggests the force of an explosion.  It is not a blow in the sense that immediately it takes place it is over and done with.  There is the glorious follow-through, with the clubhead finishing around the neck and the hands high up.  These are things that denote the master golfer and in giving expression to them in a way that reveals the touch of genius, Mr. Jones has become the idol of St. Andrews....'"

Bobby goes on to write:  "The other quote I mentioned, written in 1903, was used in an article I myself wrote in July 1932.  In order to reveal my thinking on the subject at the time, I am going to set down here the quote from my own article.  It was as follows: 'I have chanced upon a thing written by Harold Hilton in 1903 which so closely parallels what I myself have written and said so many times that the similarity is startling.  A comparison of this and present-day utterances on the subject shows that the rhythm of the well-timed swing has not been altered much through the change of implements and balls.

  Mr. Hilton wrote of S. Mure Fergusson, one of the long drivers of that era:

  'On the upward swing, Mr. Fergusson always appears to take the club up in a most leisurely and deliberate fashion, and maintains this leisurely method at the beginning of the downswing; in fact, he always appears to be swinging slowly and well within himself, and this probably accounts for the fine, free action of the body when following through; but by the length of ball he drives, it is manifest that the clubhead must be travelling fast when it reaches the ball.'

  Of this passage, the most important part is to be found in the statement that Mr. Fergusson 'maintains this leisurely method at the beginning of the downward swing.'  We hear 'slow back' on every side, but 'slow back' is not enough.  There are numbers of players who are able to restrain their impulses to this extent, but who, once back, literally pounce upon the ball with uncontrolled fury.  It is the leisurely start downward which provides for a gradual increase of speed without disturbing the balance and timing of the swing. 

 The steel shaft has made it possible to produce a golf club that is better balanced, and hence more easily manipulated.  It is, therefore, possible that in the hands of a competent player it can be swung somewhat more rapidly without sacrifice of control.  Nevertheless, the inexpert player or average golfer will still do well to take to heart the descriptions quoted above.  Let him always strive for rhythm and make certain that both backswing and the start downwards are made at a leisurely pace.  And let the player always swing the club back far enough so that there will be plenty of space and time for the clubhead to gain speed between the top of the swing and contact with the ball."

That is what, it seems to me, we see and appreciate in the great swings.  Some swings have a faster tempo than others, but all good swings look leisurely.  There is never any rush.  You don't see good players snatching the club back, or lunging at the ball from the top.  They aren't in any hurry.  After all, the ball isn't going anywhere. It's relatively easy to take the club back slowly, and smoothly.  As Bobby said, many golfers have mastered that part of the swing.  But it's the change of direction, or the move from the top, where most swings, including my own, are likely to seriously go wrong.  

Bobby Jones on the "Modern Game"

OIn the chapter entitled "Then and Now," in Golf is my Game, Bobby Jones gave an appraisal of the modern player and whether or not there was what could be termed a modern golf swing.  It's interesting--at least I find it interesting--to listen to this great, and thoughtful, golfer give a very objective analysis of what had changed in the game in the twenty-some years since he had retired.

He wrote:

"With all these changes in equipment and golf course upkeep, it is not unnatural that the question should often occur, 'What changes have come about in method?  Is there a modern method, a modern golf swing which is essentially different from that of twenty-five or thirty years ago?'  Actually, I think not, and I believe that so long as a man is constructed as he is--which seems to be a fairly reasonable prospect for the predictable future--the order of the movements necessary to the complete, sound golf swing are not likely to change.  In two respects only am I able to find any difference, and these are not of the nature which can be called fundamental.

  The first difference I note is in the length of the backswing, and perhaps in the speed of it as well.  In my day and before, the virtues of a long, leisurely swing had come to be fairly well accepted.  Writer and players alike extolled the value of rhythm.

  I still think that the long, leisurely swing is best for the average player.  I think he should always try to make certain that he gets the club back far enough and that his change of direction at the top of the swing should take place in a leisurely manner, because nothing can so upset his timing and execution as hurry at either one of these points.

  If there is a new method in golf, it seems to involve a more careful, even meticulous, 'sighting' of the shot.  While we still have many graceful, comfortable-looking players, there are a number who have the appearance of being excrutiatingly stiff.  In some cases the traditional waggle of the club designed to promote smoothness of movement has been replaced by a waggle of the player's behind as he strives to place himself in precise alignment for the delivery of the blow.

  Some of these players are very effective.  Once they have settled into a satisfactory position, the quick, convulsive stroke seems to send the ball very straight indeed towards the objective.  But the method involves a complete disregard of the amount of time consumed, and so is most trying upon the nerves and patience of any who may be watching.  I must admit that I do not find the performance of these players pleasing to the eye, even though the figures they produce may leave little to be desired.

  It is not my intention to imply by what I have written that there has been no improvement among golfers themselves in the past thirty years.  Indeed, I should regard it as very sad if this were the case.  Men have learned to run faster and to jump higher and farther.  It would be strange if they had not learned to play better golf.  Every generation learns from those that have gone before, and so progress is made."

Bobby also goes on to speak about the modern professional player having more time and opportunity to practise and compete in lucrative tournaments, so the modern professional is more seasoned and experienced in tournament play than the players of old who held club jobs and competed in a short winter-circuit.  That is even more the case today.

As for whether the top players of old could hold their own against the modern players, Bobby concluded:

"So while I think it is true that the best of the old-timers could play all the shots as well as anyone around today, I think it cannot be denied that the top few in any tournament of today will make fewer mistakes than their counterparts of earlier days.  This may be attributed partly to the fact that the game of golf today, because of improved equipment and grounds, is a more precise game than it ever was before, but also because the modern player has attained a more complete control over his own physical shot-making machinery.  He has also, through increased experience, learned a lot more about the management of himself and his game in tournament play.

  In golf, you know you can't rely on the old adage that there is safety in numbers.  Indeed, it works the other way.  In a close finish, if there are only two or three players a couple of shots away, you may hope  that all three may be off a bit that day.  But when you have a dozen or so on your heels, you know that some of them will stick with you to the finish."

The game of golf seems to be in a great place.  I'm sure Bobby Jones would be most impressed with some of the new stars of today.  But, I daresay he'd likely be less impressed by the time it takes many of them to get the job done. But that, of course, is another story.

Bobby Jones on Play Around the Green

I used to be a fan of using the 60 degree wedge around the greens.  I figured, since I seldom practised, that it would be best to make friends with one short game club and learn to use it for all manner of short game shots.  On days when my touch was good, I could hit lots of chips and pitches stone dead, and even hole a few.  On other days, I threw away shots like a drunken sailor.

I have also learned from routinely being out-played around the greens by Carl Stacey, who uses a variety of clubs to get the ball up and down, seldom if ever relying on fancy, spinning shots.  It seems, had I read and listened to Bobby Jones a lot earlier, I might have saved myself a lot of strokes, and a fair bit of embarrassment when my fancy, one-hop-and-stop wedges bounded over the green into a thicket, or were chunked a couple of feet in front of me.

Bobby Jones was nothing if not pragmatic.  He believed in simplicity, trying the fancy shot only when the situation made a straightforward shot impossible.  While he was a wonderful shotmaker, capable of producing all sorts of magic, he realized that, in the long run, it was best to, as Harvey Penick later advised, make your shot flavour plain old vanilla.

Under the heading On Play Around the Green, in Golf is my Game, Bobby Jones had the following to say about chipping and pitching:

"The chipping and short-approach game is one place where the intelligent and experienced golfer can give himself all the best of it.  Most good golfers are great chippers.  They have to be, because they can't afford to go over par every time they miss the green with the proper shot.

  A.C.M. Croome, a British golf expert of my day, once said that Walter Hagen was so hard to beat because he realized better than anyone else that 'three of these and one of those still make four.'  The inference, of course, was that Hagen holed a lot of putts for pars.  This was true, and Hagen was a great putter, but he was also one of the best short-approach players the game has ever seen.  He gave himself a lot of putting opportunities.

  When I try to tell something about how to swing a golf club, I am never quite certain that I am really helping him a great deal.  But when I am on this present subject I know I can give sound advice which anyone can apply, to take strokes off his score and add to his enjoyment of golf.

  The main idea in the short play is to give yourself the benefit of all percentages.  Never try to be unnecessarily fancy.  Whenever possible, select a club which will permit the shot to be played in a straightforward manner and which will make all use possible of the most carefully prepared part of the golf course--the putting surface itself.

  As must inevitably follow from the above, do not for one moment entertain the notion of playing all short approaches with one club.  A chipper, or run-up club has no place in today's limited set.

  The rule to follow is this.  Aim to pitch the ball in the air by only a safe margin on to the nearest edge of the putting surface, and strike it in a manner which will insure that it will take a full, normal roll--that is, without abnormal spin.

  If your ball lies a foot or two off the putting surface on what would be called the 'apron' of the green, use a number three iron and loft it just over the bit of apron on to the putting surface.  The shot becomes only a long putt.  From a few feet farther back you would use a five iron, and so on, but the shot would be the same.  In any case, you are playing for the best possible average of results and not trying for anything spectacular.  If you can consistently leave your chips  within a radius of four to six feet from the hole, you won't suffer too much in the average golf game.

  All this may sound pretty simple and obvious, but even in select company I have seen departures from it which proved costly.  The most upsetting to me, especially if I happen to be sentimentally interested in the fortunes of the player, is the man who plays all chips from just off the green with a seven or eight iron, pitching the ball well on to the green, often half-way to the hole.  Even in these days of advanced greenkeeping, putting greens do have soft and hard spots, and landing either can throw the shot off.  This risk must be accepted from farther out, but it doesn't exist for the ball that is always rolling.

  At the other extreme is the player who habitually uses a putter from anywhere on the apron.  Here the turf is usually well-conditioned, but the grass is a bit longer than on the putting surface.  There is simply no way of knowing how those few feet of apron will affect the speed of the ball.  If the ball hugs closely to the ground, the grass will have a braking effect; but if it bounces once, it may take off.  A few feet of run, more or less, may mean the difference between a holeable putt and one that is not quite so.

  One other rule should definitely be made for the average golfer.  Let him never take his sand wedge from his bag except when his ball is in sand, or in such heavy grass that a prayerful escape is the ultimate hope.  The pros do wonders pitching with the wedge, but the extreme loft and extra weight cause it to be a treacherous club in the hands of an inexpert player.  It is so easy with it to leave a ball sitting or to top it into tiger country beyond the green."

Since this was written, greens have improved, along with green speeds.  Wedges are also well-designed to make them perhaps a bit easier to use.  But Bobby's advice remains sound.  I've seen Carl's son, Billy, hole more than a few chips from the apron using a three iron, while I've left a spinning 60 degree wedge short.  My buddy Steve, who used to generally use either a 56 degree wedge or his putter around the greens, has also been using less loft in his chipping and has experienced very good results.  

As for me, I'm tired of dipping in my pocket to pay Carl Stacey.  I think if I keep listening to Bobby's advice, and get used to playing less loft and less spin around the greens, it might just help turn the tables and wipe that grin off the old man's face.

Bobby Jones on Getting That Certain Feel

I was reading Bobby Jones on Golf again and learned that, while Bobby Jones obviously played the game on a much higher level than most of us have ever dreamt of playing, in some respects his experiences were similar to yours and mine.  He didn't go out every day and play his best.  In fact, he had just a few rounds in his career where things felt easy.  The rest of the time he scratched out the best score he could on the day, just like everyone else.

In Bobby Jones on Golf, Bobby talked about "getting that certain feel"; figuring out how hard to swing to play his best on that particular day.  I think it contains some excellent advice for good players and average mugs alike.  Bobby wrote:

"To determine just how hard to hit a golf ball in order to get the best results is often a perplexing problem.  Everyone knows the dangers of pressing and the troubles one can encounter when trying to hit too hard.  But the shoe can rub the other way, too, and the fellow who tries to swing too easily is often just as close to disaster.  Somewhere between the two extremes is the happy middle ground the golfer must tread.

  I cannot recall that I ever accomplished any really good scores or won any matches by trying to knock the cover off the ball.  Good driving has been a part of all the really fine rounds I ever played.  It is true that, except for those occasions when a putter goes phenomenally hot, a man must be driving well to score well.  But all that is needed is ordinarily good length and a good deal of accuracy, the latter feature being by far the more important of the two.

  I got as much fun as the next man from whaling a ball as hard as I could and catching it squarely on the button.  But from sad experience I learned not to try this in a round that meant anything.

  But there is the other extreme that is just as bad.  Whenever one becomes too careful and begins to steer his shots, he can get into just as much trouble, and his trouble may be found a lot farther from the green than if he had taken a good, healthy swing.  Easing up almost always leaves the left side in the way--there is not enough pull to get it around where it ought to be--and when the swing finds itself blocked, there is no way for it to go through cleanly and smoothly.

  Of all the times that I have struggled around the golf course, there are a few easy rounds that stand out in my memory.  These are the ones I should like to play over again, and it would not take long, for there are not that many.  One at Sunningdale, England, one at East Lake in Atlanta, two at Augusta, Georgia (both in one day), one at Interlachen in Minneapolis, and that's about all.  Other scores were as good, but no other rounds were as satisfying.

  Strangely, perhaps, one thing stands out about all those rounds; I had precisely the same feel on each occasion; I was conscious of swinging the club easily and yet without interruption; my left side was moving through without hindrance, yet I was making no special effort to get it out of the way; in fact, I had to make no special effort to do anything.

  Sunningdale came first.  I did not recognize the symptoms, because I had never had them before.  Then, the next year, we had an open tournament at East Lake.  In warming up before the second round, I suddenly realized that I had the same feel I had at Sunningdale--and it worked again.  It is not unnatural that I tried to get it every time I went out on the course, but only a few times did it come.

  I think it is helpful to begin a round, or better still, to begin warming up for a round, swinging the club as easily as possible, gradually working up speed until you play yourself into a tempo that feels about right.  After you have found the right rhythm for the driver, try to carry the same beat down through the other clubs.  In other words, vary the selection of clubs for the fairway shots so they can be swung as nearly as possible in the same rhythm.  If you are able to swing the driver easily and get good solid contact and good direction, it is more likely that on that particular day you will have better luck with your irons if you will take the stronger club and swing it easily also.  If you find that in driving it is necessary to swing hard in order to move the left side out of the way, the chances are that the irons will be better if the more lofted clubs are chosen and swung more nearly with full force.

  No matter how 'average' one's game may be, there are always vast possibilities in this matter of finding the proper beat for a given day.  It is really a sort of tuning-up process everyone can go through with profit.  And always the start should be made on the low side, swinging easily at first, gradually increasing the speed until the thing begins to click.  And remember, it is not length that is wanted so much as accuracy and consistency."

So there you have it; from the master himself we learn that we can't always swing the same way every day.  We can't always find that ideal, easy swing that makes the playing of the game seem effortless.  We are not robots.  Therefore, if you sometimes wonder why those easy rounds have been so elusive; and why you can't replicate your best golf every time you tee it up; wonder no more.  It's the same for everyone; including the greatest that have ever played the game.  It's called golf.

And, the next time you see the advertisement offering to teach you how to hit it great every time, don't eat that, Arthur.  Golf is a constant search for that perfect tempo and rhythm that makes the game seem almost easy.  When you find it, you will always remember it.  It's just too bad you can't bottle it and call it up every day.  Every day on the golf course is a new search, and a new adventure.