How the Game Should be Played

I have been so happy to see the emergence of this new crop of young stars on the PGA tour.  As impressive as their games are, one thing that is quite remarkable is their behaviour on the golf course.  In an age where common courtesy is not necessarily quite so common, these young guns are setting a fine example of just how the game should be played.

Leading the pack in this respect, I think, are Jordan Spieth and Rickie Fowler.  They are exciting to watch, have their own unique styles and swings, and they comport themselves wonderfully on the golf course and in their dealings with the fans.  I've enjoyed watching Spieth, Fowler, Day, and McIlroy play together.  Often, even in the heat of battle, they look like guys out playing a regular Sunday round.  They openly chat to one another.  They smile, and acknowledge great shots played.  They actually seem to be having a good time.

This, of course, stands in stark contrast to the behaviour of some other players who seem to embrace the win-at-all-cost mentality; most infamously of late, being Suzann Pettersen's display of poor sportsmanship at the Solheim Cup.

When one thinks about Jack Nicklaus, we may remember his power, his ability to hit those majestic, high-fading iron shots, and his incredible putting that often made us think he really could will the ball into the hole.  But, as I see over and over again as I read people's comments about Jack, the one thing about him that is always mentioned is what an absolute gentleman he is and was.  He personified good sportsmanship on the course.

Jack was a huge admirer of Bobby Jones; and I daresay he paid close attention to the example Jones set as a gentleman.  I was just reading what Bobby Jones had to say about etiquette, and just how he believed golfers should behave on the golf course.  In his book, Golf is my Game, Bobby wrote the following, under the heading RESPECT THE RULES AND ETIQUETTE OF THE GAME, Bobby summed up, surely as well as any person could, the way golf should be played.  He wrote:

"It is of the very essence of golf that it should be played in a completely sociable atmosphere conducive to the utmost courtesy and consideration of one player for the others, and upon the very highest level in matters of sportsmanship, observance of the rules, and fair play.  There is no place at all for gamesmanship in golf...

Since we want to enjoy our golf, one of the most important necessities for this enjoyment is that we make ourselves agreeable companions on the links.  We want other people to enjoy playing with us as much as we enjoy playing with them.  There is nothing at all inconsistent in being competitive and at the same time companionable.

So the one of the most important things for the beginner to acquire as soon as possible is an adequate understanding of the rules and etiquette of the game.  The rules of golf, considered in their entirety, provide material for almost a lifetime of study...

On the other hand, there are two basic conceptions upon which the game of golf has been developed which most effectively point the way to the proper solution of any question that may arise.  The first, with respect to the rules, is that the player must start and finish each hole with the same ball, playing each stroke as it lies, or accept some penalty for failing to do so. (This, of course, is a bit of an over-simplification, as we know there are occasions when a ball may be moved, or even changed without penalty.  But, the notion of playing the ball as it lies is integral to the game.). The second, with respect to etiquette, is that the player must in no way interfere with the play of his opponent or anyone else in the game.  This right of the player to play his own game unmolested by other players or agencies outside his own game is fundamental to golf.  So it is quite enough in the beginning, I think, if the player should understand that he is to play every shot with the ball as it lies, or accept a penalty, and he must so conduct himself as to interfere with his opponent or partner in no way, shape, of form...

On the side of etiquette, I think the golfer could well be guided by the rules of simple courtesy.  He knows well enough not to take practice swings while his companions are trying to play shots, or to talk or make distracting noises while the same process is going on.  Golf requires considerable concentration, which is not possible in this sort of atmosphere.

Always play to win.  You don't have to be a doormat to be a good sport.  You owe it to your opponent to let him know that he only wins from you when he overcomes the best you can do.

It is by no means necessary to play well to be an entirely acceptable golfing companion, but you must try.  You must be able to keep the ball in play.  You must not dilly-dally around.  You must be ready to play your shot when your turn comes, and you must be aware of and respectful of the rights of others in your game.

If you can fill this bill, you need have no hesitancy about playing in any company.  Indeed, better players will be delighted to help and encourage you in the game.  They like golf, and they will want you to like it, too.  The better your partner, the more tolerant he is likely to be."

I'm only sorry I never got to see Bobby Jones play.

Isn't It Great?

Isn't it great; the advances we've made in the game?  The equipment has improved.  The courses are in better shape.  And, because of technology, the average 90 shooter can now look at his wrist, or focus in with a fancy gizmo that even vibrates to let him know he's locked on, and be assured that he is exactly 127 yards from the pin.  We're now able to know precisely how far we are from the hole.  Hell, with GPS we can know how far we are from a pin we can't even see.  It's incredible.

However, with some scientific advances, there are downsides.  For instance, if we haven't got enough problems with slow play thanks to amateurs imitating the pros with elaborate pre-shot routines and rituals, we now have guys who can't break 100 standing beside the 150 yard marker and staring at the flag through a fancy rangefinder so they can get their exact yardage.  Then, more often than not, they pull out a seven iron and leave it short in the bunker.  It's just another reason why rounds take longer, and another excuse for me to drink.

There are fellows at our club--good players--who play the course five times a week and still check the yardage through one of those gadgets before every shot.  They can be literally one pace from the 100 yard marker, with a middle pin, and they will go to their bag and take out their rangefinder to get an "exact number."  I routinely guess their yardage before they take a reading and seldom have I been out by more than three yards.  But, I suppose if you're going to fork out three or four hundred bucks for one of those gadgets, you're damned well going to use it; even if your playing partners want to strangle you.

The point I'm trying to make is that some people have become fooled into thinking that golf is some sort of exact science that can be conquered by better equipment and gadgets.  We get advised to find out, presumably through diligent practice, exactly how far we hit all our clubs--as if that's even possible or likely to happen with the average player.  We then get sold expensive devices to tell us exactly how far we are from the pin.  Supposedly, this makes the game easier, because we have an exact number.  But golf is not an exact science, and we don't always hit our seven iron exactly the same distance.  

Nothing is ever constant in golf--other than the fact that we're all going to miss some shots. That's part of the fascination.  The wind, the temperature, the elevation, how we feel on a particular day, how well we're swinging the club; they all influence how far our seven iron will fly.  What also influences how far our seven iron will travel is the trajectory, and the amount of draw, or fade spin applied.  I've seen me hit a three wood 150 yards on a hole, and a pitching wedge the same distance two holes later.  That's golf.  It's not always that simple to pick the right club, and knowing the yardage is just one of the factors.

I like the story I once heard about Ben Hogan, who was apparently uncanny in his ability to judge distances.  On a par three in a casual round, a playing partner asked Ben what club he used.  Disgusted, Ben apparently grabbed a handful of balls and threw them down.  He then proceeded to use four different clubs to hit the ball on the green, all of them ending up within thirty feet of the hole.  Sam Snead was supposedly quite adept at taking a little something off a club and messing with players he found taking an interest in what club he was using.  The point being, there is no one club that can, or should, always be used for a particular shot.  Sometimes you even need to play a wedge from the putting surface.  Therefore, knowing our exact yardage, while it might be nice, doesn't in and of itself provide us with the solution to our problem. Being confident we have the correct club in our hands is nice, but we still have to have the experience to weigh all the variables and pick the right club.  Then we have to hit the right shot.

Call me old fashioned, but I do not now have, nor will I ever have, a yardage device.  I have yet to meet one person whose game actually noticeably improved by purchasing a rangefinder or GPS device.  I've never seen one person get better, but I've seen them get slower.  If you have one, please use and enjoy it if it seems to help.  But please; if you're one yard from the 100 yard marker, and the flag is in the middle of the green, don't take any extra time to get an exact reading--at least not when it's your turn to play and the rest of us are waiting.  

Unless you're a tour pro, or a top amateur, three yards, one way or the other, isn't likely to make much difference, unless the pin sits just over a bunker, or on the back edge with a steep bank on the other side.  And besides, in those cases, unless you are an ace ball striker, you should be playing for the middle of the green anyway.  Even the top players rarely fire at pins with more than a wedge in their hands.  So why do recreational players like us seem to think we need to know whether it's 150 or 152 yards to the pin?  It's vanity.

Don't get me wrong.  I like to have a pretty good idea about how far I need to hit a shot, just like the next guy.  And a rangefinder can be very helpful on a strange course, giving you distances to hazards and bunkers, and to the pin.  But, in my mind, the only thing worse on the golf course than yardage devices, especially when used by someone who can't break 90, is cell phones.  Don't even get me started on cell phones!  Actually, I guess you can now use an app to get the exact yardage from your cell phone.  Isn't it great?!

"I'm Going to Swing Like Nick Price"

Golf is a game that is deceptively simple, and endlessly complicated.  While it surely shouldn't be, golf, as Bobby Jones said, is the one game that gets more difficult the longer you play it.  He said that the longer he played the game, the more ways he found to miss shots.  

Steve and I played what might just be our last round of the season at the Loyalist Golf Club in Bath, Ontario.  It was the final day for green fee players at Loyalist.  The tee blocks were conspicuous by their absence, the rakes for the bunkers were gone, but the flagsticks were in, the greens were still good, and it was about seven degrees Celsius, which, I figure, is about 50 degrees Fahrenheit.  For November in this neck of the woods that was pretty good.  

We teed off behind two young guys who had obviously been watching lots of golf on the tube and, thanks to elaborate pre-shot routines and crooked tee shots, kept us waiting most of the day.  In fact, we ended up being joined after a few holes by Danny who was from Belleville and was playing as a single.  Even with the addition of Danny, we still found ourselves waiting on those two flat-bellies.

Despite the cool and the wind, thanks to chipping in for birdie on one, and holing some nice putts, I was able to go out in 35.  On the first few holes, as is my wont, I was fiddling around with my swing.  But, after a couple of wonky shots, I settled in to my "natural swing;" the swing I make when I close my eyes and just swing the club.  That's the swing that tends to produce a draw, and the swing I keep tinkering with because I have a tough time fading the ball with it.  

Steve was struggling, but Danny was playing like a man possessed.  On the first hole he played with us, which was a par three, Danny thinned his tee shot and watched it scamper onto the green to about four feet.  He made the birdie and then promptly holed out from about 155 yards on the next hole for eagle, causing me to inquire as to just who the hell he was.

In any event, we both tended to lose the plot a bit coming home, and I settled quite happily for a two over 74.  Danny had a few dreaded others and didn't indicate, or seem to care, what his final tally was.  I think he was really just happy to be out there, like I was.  Steve, on the other hand, struggled to a 93.  He was not all that happy a camper.

After the round we stood in the parking lot by the car and Steve seemed reluctant to put the clubs away.  He said he wanted to hit a couple of shots and have me take a look at his swing.  Why he wanted me to look at his swing is a good question.  But, if you are feeling desperate, I suppose any port in a storm will do.  So we went to the range and he threw down a scruffy ball.  He took a practice swing, brushing the grass nicely, and looked at me.

"What did you see?" Steve asked.

I just shrugged.  It looked like just another swing to me.  That's the problem with trying to help someone with their swing.  As Bobby Jones pointed out, often what matters more is what a golfer feels he is doing than what he is actually doing.  Golf is a feel game.

Steve likes to talk about a buddy of his who used to stand on the range and say, "Now I'm going to swing like Nick Price."

His buddy would then tee another one up and say, "Now I'm going to swing like Freddie Couples."

The funny thing was, according to Steve, every swing looked just the same.

I suggested to Steve that he just hit one concentrating on making the club-face strike the ball going straight down the target line.  He hit it and produced what for him was a dead-straight, perfect seven iron.  He looked at me and shook his head.  

That's one of the problems with golf.  We worry about our swing when it's the strike that really matters.  I know I keep harping on about Bobby Jones, but that's because he was so brilliant.  He said that, when he was competing, he focussed intently on the strike and left his swing to take care of itself.  I try to do the same thing, but my powers of concentration are sadly lacking.  Eventually, I get back to thinking about my swing just long enough to screw things up.  

The Colonel

With November 11th fast approaching, many of us remember the old soldiers we've known; the men who, sometimes as boys, went to far off places to fight for freedom, or to stop tyranny. 

My old father was one of those kids who joined up at 16, landed on a beach in France, and fought his way through Europe.  He was a respected soldier who had a fine military career, commanding an army battalion, and serving as the military attaché to Turkey, Iran, and Iraq.  Along the way, he even met the queen a couple of times--not too bad for a working class kid from Toronto.

He was affectionately referred to as "the Colonel" in his later years, but spoke only rarely about his military experiences.  Some people might like to say he was a hero.  He did fight bravely and still carried shrapnel in his body to his dying day.  But he once told me that, when he joined up, he and his buddies didn't head to fight with the notion of giving their lives for their country.  For them, it was an adventure.  They were off to places they'd only read and dreamed about, to face what they never probably imagined.  And, when circumstances caused them to do something heroic, or brave, it was for their comrades that they put themselves in harm's way and sometimes paid the ultimate price.  He never would have considered himself a hero, just a soldier.

His great love was golf.  I really miss him.

Bernhard Langer

After his opening round 63 at the Schwab Cup Championship, Bernhard Langer looks awfully good to become the first player to win the year-long Schwab Cup race for the third time.  I, for one, would certainly not bet against him.

Bernhard looked like a man on a mission, for fourteen holes at least, playing almost flawless golf.  Meanwhile race-leading Colin Montgomery looked shaky and very unlike a man ready to get the job done.  He and Jeff Maggert, leading contenders for the Schwab Cup heading into the championship, seemed to feed off one another and played miserably. 

I realize that there are 54 holes yet to play, and anything can happen in this game, but is there anyone who believes Langer won't seal the deal this week?  Checking on Bernhard's record, I note that he's won 98 professional tournaments, including two Masters titles.  What I didn't know until today was that he also held the distinction of being the first official world number one in 1986.

Very workmanlike in his approach to the game, Langer may not be particularly flashy; but, at 58 years old, he still looks fit as a fiddle and, in the heat of battle, he's obviously still as hard as a coffin nail.  As was obvious in the several post-round interviews, Bernhard is much respected by his peers, who, better than anyone, know just how good, and how tough, he is.

In terms of being mentally tough, here's a man who has not only won two green jackets, he's also managed to overcome the dreaded yips, had the bad luck to be the one to miss a decisive putt at a Ryder Cup, and just came back, if anything, even stronger.  With 25 champions tour victories, including five senior Majors, only Lee Trevino and Hale Irwin have been more prolific winners after the age of fifty.  

I will be just another fan who will be very happy to see Langer achieve another first, when he lifts the Charles Schwab Cup for the third time.  Bernhard knows that there are still 54 holes to play, and he won't be counting his chickens quite yet.  I certainly don't want to dismiss the possibility that Colin Montgomery or Jeff Maggert could battle their way back. But, is there anyone betting against Langer at this point?  Certainly not I.

Throw a Dog a Bone

Those golfing gods seem to be that way.  When you're feeling like a whipped dog, and just when you are ready to take your clubs to the charity shop, they throw you a bone.

Every Fall I seem to struggle with my depression, finding myself starting to descend into the abyss.  I don't know if it's what they call seasonal affective disorder, or simply the fact I'm increasingly aware that another golf season is coming to a close, and this year I won't be spending the whole winter in sunny climes.  Whatever the case, trying to play good golf in a depressive fog is just about impossible.

After several weeks of struggling, especially on the greens, I finally saw some light at the end of the tunnel.  Today, for the first time in recent memory, I reeled off four birdies in a row, and shot 32 on the front nine.  What made this start particularly pleasing was the fact that Carl the Grinder, who has been beating me like a drum lately, shot 35 on the front today as well and still found Randy and himself eight points down to Radar and I in our match.

Naturally, having played so poorly for so long, it was well nigh impossible not to start thinking about what I was doing.  This, of course, is the kiss of death.  Sure enough I hit it in the woods on eleven and made a double.  Then the muscles really started to tighten up, and the voices started playing in my head.

Making a birdie on seventeen helped me manage to limp in with 39 on the back to beat Old Man Par by one.  As for Carl the Grinder, he just kept grinding away, despite the fact that the putts weren't dropping, and had me worried that he would do it to me again.  For example, on the par five sixteenth, Carl hit his second shot into a green-side bunker.  From the bunker he hit it across the green, through another bunker and onto the back lip.  From that seemingly impossible lie he chipped it across the green again onto the fringe.  I two-putted for par, only to watch Carl putt it in from off the green for his five.  This is what the guy does to you.  He makes pars when you think he's sure to make bogey, or worse.  

Anyway, just when this old dog was about ready to quit, I somehow managed to beat Carl the Grinder, thanks in part to Carl hitting it out of bounds on seventeen and making double.  

"I never miss it there," Carl told me.

Never say never, Carl.  Not only that; my partner and I beat those boys so badly, as Radar said afterwards, "If they'd been eggs, they'd have looked like omelettes."

It just doesn't get much better than that. The golfing gods have taken the force field off the cup; at least for today.  As for tomorrow, Carl and Randy will be looking to exact their revenge.  I just hope the golfing gods throw me another bone, and Radar keeps backing me, at least until my nose starts bleeding.  Heaven knows, I feel like I've suffered enough.  

Sei Young Kim Still Smiling

That was some win by Sei Young Kim at the Blue Bay Resort in China this week.  With her third win of the season, this diminutive Korean rookie is shaping up to be yet another star from a country that seems to be producing the finest women players in the game.  

After hitting it in the hazard on ten, Kim, who seems to have a knack for the dramatic, pitched in to save her par.  It was then that this smiling wee assassin made it emphatically clear that she was not about to go away.  

I thought it was interesting to watch Sei Young smile her way to victory, as she fended off Candie Kung, Kim Kaufman and Stacey Lewis, who early in the round looked to be finally ready to end her winless drought in 2015.  You hear more and more these days how important it is to have fun on the golf course, and it was obvious that, in the final group, Sei Young and Candie were both really enjoying the competition and managing to stay relatively loose out there, despite the pressure.  Stacey, on the other hand, looked to be pressing, and clearly was not having any fun at all.

Suzann Pettersen, who also looked to be a possible winner at the start of the day, played with her usual grim determination and lost her cool when the putts stopped going in.  I must admit I don't envy her caddie, who seems to be regularly on the receiving end of her foul moods on the golf course.  She seems to continue to believe that grinding it out and being miserable on the golf course is the best way to get the job done.  I must say that I had hoped she might have learned something from her Solheim Cup experience, but clearly nothing has changed.  I can't help but think that she might actually play better if she could learn to lighten up and embrace the competition instead of adopting what seems to be a win-at-all-cost mentality.

Golf, at any level, should be fun.  Nobody competed harder than Jack Nicklaus.  While competing, he was always a perfect gentleman who showed grace in victory and defeat.  On the women's side, it seems to me that all the great champions have had a similar attitude.  They didn't feel the need to put on a game face and scowl their way around the golf course.  I simply couldn't imagine Annika, or Nancy Lopez, scowling or having hissy fits on the golf course.  

I didn't see Lydia Ko having temper tantrums out there this week despite a tough start to the tournament.  She kept her composure and finished with her usual style and grace.  I know everyone is different.  But I'm so glad that golf is one of those games where nice guys, or gals, don't finish last.

Congratulations to Sei Young Kim for another great win.  Keep smiling, kiddo.