Right-Arm Action According to Jack Nicklaus

Ken Venturi said, "Golf is a game of finding what works, losing it, and finding it again."  Bobby Jones said pretty much the same thing, suggesting that he always had one or two things he thought about to keep his swing in good working order.  But those one or two things were always different, needing to be changed as they lost their charm; often because he began to exaggerate the move until he over-did it at the expense of something else.  

While there are times when you don't have to think too much about the swing, and you can just look at the target and let it go, those times tend to be few and far between for most players, even the really good ones.

I've been thinking lately about how I might be able to get the zip back in my swing.  Just like everyone else, I suppose, every year I seem to be losing a few more yards.  My back and neck troubles have made things worse.  A big turn is now pretty much out of the question.  Also, the fact that the past year and a half or so I've been forced to ride a cart, means my legs aren't as strong as they were.  Put the two together and it's a recipe for a serious loss of power.

I have decided I need to focus more on using my hands to get the zip I want.  In using the hands rather than the big muscles to generate speed, there is always the danger that the stronger right hand will take over and ruin the shot.  I was a softball pitcher and have been figuring lately that I need to use that pitching motion to get the club head firing at the target.  I find that I can still pitch a softball with lots of pop, and accuracy, despite my wonky back.  So I've decided to give it a whirl.  Actually, I remember Harvey Penick talking about a fellow he taught who was a former softball pitcher and used that under-handed pitching motion in his golf swing to some success.

Yesterday I found a new copy of Jack Nicklaus' Golf my Way at a thrift shop.  I already had an old one, but as I read through the new one again, I discovered what Jack had to say about the right-arm action, which tended to confirm what I've been thinking.  Jack said:

"In most good golf swings the right arm is slightly bent and the right elbow pointing down, not out, at impact.  Otherwise there's a danger that the right side will grab control of the swing, invariably with dire results.  Past impact, however, the right arm does straighten and extend toward the target.  To me, the movement feels very similar to that used in bowling or in pitching a softball.  It's a "sweeping-through motion from which I get the feeling I could reach out and retrieve the flying ball with my right hand."

I had tried using my softball pitching motion the last few holes the other day after my back started really giving me some grief.  The results were very promising.  It's 34 degrees out this morning, but bad back be damned, I'm going out to try that under-handed pitching motion again today.  Thanks, Jack.  I knew I was on to something.  

It may just work for awhile.  At least until I over-do it at the expense of something else.  That's the way this game is.  What worked like a charm yesterday stops working today, and you must find something else--something you probably already knew but had over-looked in favour of your latest swing thought.  That's golf.  There are lots of swing keys that work.  It's just that none of them work every time.  If they did, this game would be easy.

You Had Better Learn

Putting is the great equalizer.  Good putting covers a multitude of sins in other areas of the game.  I tend to agree with Raymond Floyd, who felt the most important shot in golf was the six foot putt.  In golf, it almost inevitably comes down to making putts if you are going to score.  And there are often times when I resent the importance of putting; especially when I have those days where I might have out-played my opponent from tee to green, but been beaten because he putted better than I.

Once again, I find Bobby Jones had some excellent insights into putting; the part of the game that has been called "the game within a game."  In Golf is my Game, Bobby wrote:

"Often--too often, I think--putting has been referred to as 'a game within a game', implying that in some way the putting stroke is, or should be, different from that employed in playing other golf shots.  I do not think this is true, and I know it is anything but a useful conception for the learning golfer.  Somehow it conveys the notion that on the putting green, at least, one should be able to reduce the simple physical act into a precise routine of infallible accuracy.

To make a completely honest confession, I have myself been the victim of this delusion, and can be thankful that it only arrived after my serious playing days were over, and so caused me merely a few temporarily painful experiences in the Masters Tournament.

It is remotely possible, I concede, that my jittery putting in Augusta may have been some early manifestation of the nerve affliction from which I am now suffering, or some alteration of my attitude towards tournament play because of my earlier withdrawal from competition.  It is my own conviction that my putting troubles began when I started to struggle for a precision in my putting stroke which I would never have considered possible in any other department of the game.

The fact is that the direction of the stroke in putting is so much more important than the exact alignment of the face of the putter.  Any well-made golf club will seat itself in an approximately correct position when it is rested on the turf behind the ball.  The wiggling and twisting some players employ in an effort to make the alignment precise only serve to set up so much rigidity in the player that a smooth, rhythmic stroke becomes impossible.  I think the very height of folly, or of imposition upon the credulous golfer, is represented by the spirit levels and sighting devices now being offered for sale as aids in putting.

The putting stroke should be thought of as just another golf stroke, except that it ought to be the simplest.  The same requirements are to be met here as in driving from the tee.  The posture at address should be comfortable and relaxed, the swing should move freely back and forth beneath a stationary head, and the blow should be directed along the line upon which it is intended that the ball should begin its travel.

I regard the putting stroke as so truly a miniature golf stroke that I think it is a mistake to try to exclude any members of the body from participation in the action.  In other words, I do not believe in trying to hinge the stroke upon either wrist, or in trying to restrict the movement to any sort of fixed base.  Naturally, the shortest putt requires only the gentlest tap, actuated only by the hands; a putt slightly longer may require that the arms should swing a bit; and the long approach putt may need a stroke long enough to induce a little movement in the hips and legs.

In putting, and in chipping too, it is important that the backswing should be long enough.  Nothing can be worse around the greens than a short, snatching stroke.  I have had some real masters of the short game tell me, and I heartily agree, that it is most helpful to swing back a little farther than needed on the first few chips or putts of any round.  In this way they can be certain of a smoothly-floating club so necessary for a delicate touch."

As I read this, I find myself thinking of Ben Crenshaw's smooth, flowing stroke.  Watching Ben swing the putter we see no effort to do anything other than smoothly stroke the ball along the intended line.  He would seem to putt exactly as Bobby Jones recommended; nothing forced, or controlled, just a swing of the putter head.  Bobby continues, by writing:

"Actually, this touch is the key to good putting.  Very few putts of any length are dead straight, so that no line is right except for one speed; and the player who tries to straighten even the shortest putts by charging the hole will miss a lot of those coming back.

I will guarantee that more putts under twenty feet--the kind you like to hole--will go in, and three-putt greens will pop up less often, if the player will forget about the precise alignment of his putter and learn to adjust his touch so that he may always keep his ball above the hole and always reach the hole with a dying ball.  A ball dying on a slope above the hole often topples in, and always stops close; nothing is more disheartening than to watch a ball barely miss the lower side of the hole and then curl down the slope some five or six feet.  And remember, even on short putts, that the hole is of full size for the touch putter, while it presents only an inch or so to the charger who has to hit the exact centre of the cup.

I like to think of putting as very much like rolling a golf ball from my hand across a green towards a hole.  I know I should then not worry too much about the backswing of my arm.  I think it would instinctively take care of itself.  So in putting, I don't like to worry too much about the alignment of my putter at address or about my backswing, except that it be long enough.  The picture I want uppermost in my mind is of the line I want the ball to travel on, and of how hard I want to hit it."

Having given his view of how best to approach the task of putting, Bobby once again returns to the subject of whether or not putting is really a game within a game.  I think it perfectly addresses the issue.  He writes:

"There occurs to me one other reason for saying that putting is a game within a game.  It makes it much easier to say or to think, "I played very well, but I couldn't putt", or "He's a fine golfer, but he can't putt."  I know--I have done it myself--but how can a man play golf well or be a fine golfer if he can't putt?

One thing is certain: you won't win any medals or many friendly bets if you can't get the ball into the hole.  If you are not reasonably good at it, you had better learn."

So what can we learn from this information from Bobby Jones?  He did not believe that putting is a game within a game, as is often attributed to him.  He did not believe in being overly precise about putting.  He believed the putting stroke was just a simple golf swing, and that touch was the most important thing to learn.  

Having tried virtually every putter known to man--I've got about thirty of them still around the house--and just about every conceivable grip, stance, and stroke; I might just give up and try getting back to just trying to roll the ball on the right line, at the right speed.  If nothing else, it will save me buying any more putters.

Swing Easy and Accept the Extra Distance

Bobby Jones said, "Many shots are spoiled at the last instant by efforts to add a few more yards."  Ain't that the truth.  And yet do you think I can learn to swing easy?  

My best golf is always played when I feel like I'm just patty-caking the ball.  When I feel like I've got lots of club, and I feel like I don't have to strain, the ball tends to come off the club like a rocket.  I wish I could learn to play with my lay-up swing.  But put that driver in my hand and I suddenly want to kill something.

My father used to say, "Swing easy and accept the extra distance."  He was right, of course.  

I've been reading a book by Bob Toski called The Touch System for Better Golf.  In the book Mr. Toski recommends learning to play by feel by working from the green back to the tee; learning to hit solid putts, then chips, then wedges, working your way back to the driver.  He believes too many of us have not progressed as we might have because we essentially tried to run before we learned to walk.  We didn't master the simple shots and swings before we reached for the big dog.  

In that book Bob Toski also explains why we should never swing hard.  Why, as Julius Boros also taught, we need to learn to "swing easy and hit hard."  He explains that we are hitting a ball that weighs less than two ounces with a club that weighs about fourteen ounces.  Why then do we feel we need to swing out of our shoes and lunge at the ball to get it moving?  He also explains that kinetic energy is derived from an equation involving mass and speed, with speed being the most important part of the equation.  So we need to make the club move faster and hit the ball with optimum mass, in other words in the centre of the club face, if we want to maximize the energy we transmit to the ball.  It is speed we want, not force.

Toski advises us to think about the ball as though it was a ping pong ball, or a bubble.  We want to swing through it instead of at it.  We need to realize that, if we relax, and let the club do the work, we can hit it farther with must less work.  

I think I'm going to try to remember just how small and light that golf ball is compared to the club.  If I do, maybe I can learn to resist ruining as many shots by trying to add a little extra at the moment of truth.  I am going to try to take Harry Vardon's advice when he said: "Don't press.  You can hit hard without pressing."

Bobby Jones on Addressing the Ball

Today, I was thinking about how often shots are made or missed before the club has even been swung.  When you think about it, how often have you seen someone addressing the ball and just known they were going to miss the shot?  In fact, how often have you stood over a shot yourself and just known you were going to miss it?  On the other hand, how often have you watched a good player step into the shot and just known he, or she, was going to hit it dead solid perfect?  Addressing the ball with the correct attitude, physically and mentally, is vital to playing good golf. 

I was reviewing the book, Golf is my Game, where Bobby Jones deals, surely about as well as anyone possibly could, with the subject of addressing the golf ball.  In Golf is my Game, after having first dealt with the concept of learning by playing, then how the ball must be struck, and then how the club should be gripped, Bobby turned his attention to how to approach actually playing a golf shot.  It was written before the popularization of the idea of a "pre-shot routine," but it essentially deals with this as well.  Bobby wrote:

"The act of beginning to play a golf shot is called addressing the ball.  We already know that at this point there must be in the player's mind a very clear picture of the manner and direction in which he intends to hit.  As he approaches the ball and places himself before it preparing to strike, he must, of course, arrange his posture so that he feels capable of delivering a blow along the desired path.  He must become aware of this capability before the swinging of the club can have any purpose.  But the striving for this awareness of proper positioning can be far more effective than any effort to fit the stance to a prescribed diagram.

The keynote of the address position should be ease, comfort, and relaxation.  Above all else, the first posture must be one from which the movement of the swing may be started smoothly without having to break down successive barriers of tension set up by taut or strained muscles.  To go a bit further, the player should feel himself alert, sensitive to impulses, and ready to move in either direction.

It is always better at this point to be one's own natural self than to make an effort to look like someone else.  Any posture that feels uncomfortable is certain to produce a strain somewhere that will cause the ensuing movement to be jerky.  It is well to remember that there are no forces outside the player's own body that have to be resisted or balanced.  There is no need for him to set or brace himself, for there is nothing to brace against.  If one can conceive that he is standing naturally with a golf club in his hands, and that he bends over enough to ground the club behind a ball not too far distant, the resulting posture will be quite good."

Contrast this advice from Bobby Jones with the sort of prescribed, or standardized, address positions we are taught by many golfing experts.  Bobby's emphasis is on comfort and relaxation, rather than trying to make your body conform to some prescribed position.  Once you have picked your shot, and understand how the ball must be struck to produce that shot, Bobby tells us to set ourselves in the manner that feels most natural and comfortable in order to execute the required strike.

Bobby liked Abe Mitchell's golfing phrase: "A golfer must always move freely beneath himself."  Bobby liked this phrase, as it helped the golfer appreciate that he needn't root himself firmly to the ground, as if preparing to lift a heavy object, and that he must move his body, not just swing his arms.  Bobby wrote:

"My conception of the correct golf swing is built entirely around the one thought of assuring a full backward turn or wind-up of the trunk during the backswing.  This must be accomplished by the legs; and since the trunk must be turned around the spine as an axis under a motionless head, I think the player must truly 'move freely beneath himself.'"

It is here that Bobby deals with the idea that has become popularized under the name "pre-shot routine."  Bobby writes:

"This much is about enough for the beginner; but for others, and for him after he has played a bit, I want to make the suggestion of a further preliminary which I have found to be very helpful.  It is essentially to standardize the approach to every shot, beginning even before taking the address position. 

It is far easier to maintain a complete relaxation if one keeps continually in motion, never becoming still and set.  This sounds far-fetched, I know, but I have had a few players tell me that after taking great pains in addressing the ball, they have reached the point where they simply could not take the club back. It is a manner of freezing, and is well known to tournament players as a form of the 'yips'.

Long ago, and with no remembered intention, I standardized my approach in the following way:

Having decided upon the club to use and the shot to play, I could see no reason for taking any more time than was necessary to measure my distance from the ball and to line up the shot.  The more I fiddled around arranging the position, the more I was beset by doubts which produced tension and strain.

I began then to approach every shot from behind the ball looking towards the hole.  It was easier to get a picture of the shot and to line it up properly from this angle than from any other.  Ordinarily, coming up from behind, I would stop a little short of what my final position would be, just near enough to the ball to reach it comfortably.  From there, the club was grounded, and I took one look towards the objective.  The club gave me a sense of my distance from the ball; looking down the fairway gave me the line while my left foot swung into position.  One waggle was begun while the right foot moved back to its place.  When the club returned to the ground behind the ball, there was a little forward twist of the hips, and the backswing began.  I felt most comfortable and played better golf when the entire movement was continuous.  Whenever I hesitated or took a second waggle, I could look for trouble.

The little twist of the hips I have mentioned is a valuable aid in starting the swing smoothly, because it assists in breaking up any tension which may have crept in.  Often referred to as the 'forward press,' it has been regarded by many as the result of a movement of the hands.  In actual fact, the hands have nothing to do with it.  The movement is in the legs, and its chief function is to assure a smooth start of the swing by setting the hip turn in motion.  Without it, the inclination is strong to pick the club up with the hands and arms without bringing the trunk into use.

I do not think it wise to prescribe any definite number of waggles.  This depends too much upon how long is required for the player to settle into a comfortable position and obtain a proper alignment.  But it is important to make the movement easy, smooth, and comfortable and to form the habit of getting the thing done without too much fussing and worrying."

Imagine how pleasurable it must have been to watch Bobby Jones approach his ball and let it fly; with a minimum of fussing and fidgeting.  He did not suggest we imitate his exact routine.  He suggested we instead be ourselves.  Nevertheless, as you watch the top players play, I can't think of one who doesn't approach the ball from behind, looking down the target line.  If you aren't doing that, you are making it more difficult to aim the club.

Imagine the comfort of picking your target and your shot shape, moving without undo fuss to the ball, and then letting it go.  No time to worry, or get tense; just a smooth unbroken rhythm.  No need to imitate anyone else.  No need to develop affectations, like tugging on your shirt sleeve, or opening and closing the flap of your glove; you just step up and confidently and comfortably hit the damned ball.  You might still miss it, but at least you'll have missed it quick.  Besides, most shots are missed before the swing has even started.  Don't I know it.

Play For Something

At the end of the day, golf is a game.  Like every other game, it has a winner and a loser.  That's why you should always play for something; even if it's just bragging rights. I haven't always felt that way.  In fact, I've generally avoided playing for money, or playing too many serious matches over the years.  But I'm learning that the competition is an important part of the golfing experience.

The other day Steve and I went to Salt Creek Golf Links near Warkworth.  There we met Doug from Brighton who I'd played with a few days earlier for the first time.  On the first tee, I announced that we would have a match; me against their best ball.  

I sensed that Doug, who is fairly new to the game, was a little taken aback at this idea, wondering what he was getting himself in to.  But as the round progressed, I think he enjoyed being part of "the game."  In fact, after Steve got in trouble, Doug had to hang in there for their team, and he actually did more than just hang in there, he won two holes.

As often happens, it came down to the last few holes.  In fact, Steve played well on the front and I found myself three down after ten.  In the end, we were all square playing eighteen.  It doesn't really matter who won, it just added something to the day for me.  Steve and I are not inclined to be ultra competitive on the golf course.  Put a hockey stick in my hand and I'm a different animal, but playing golf I tend to want my opponent to play well.  I like to win, but I prefer it to be close. I hope Doug enjoyed the day as much as Steve and I did.  I think having a friendly match helped us play a little harder, and added some pressure, which helps you focus.  

If you aren't playing for something, you're not really playing golf, you're just practising.  I like the quote I found from Walter J. Travis.  He said:

"The human element in the shape of an opponent is essential.  Always play for something, no matter how small, even though it only be a black cigar."

He also said:

"I only bet a quarter, but I play each shot as if it were for a championship."

That quote reminds me of Carl the Grinder, who plays for two bucks as though it was the Open championship.  My father always played for a dime a hole, or a dime a stroke--double for birdies.  It doesn't matter what you play for, as long as you play for something, and you play your hardest. That's the way to really enjoy golf.  

And yes, Bobby Jones said the same thing, so it must be so.

Head Cases

I have several times talked about these new young guns on tour who can play like stink and still seem to be enjoying the camaraderie out there on tour.  We saw it again this week with Andy Sullivan and Rory McIlroy as they essentially separated themselves from the field and went head to head for the tour championship.

It was a friendly, respectful match, with the two smiling and, at least until the pressure really amped up, chatting to one another.  We've seen the same from Jordan Spieth, Jason Day, and Rickie Fowler as they've battled for championships.  It's the way golf was meant to be played; in a spirit of good sportsmanship and camaraderie.  

Who was more of a competitor than Jack Nicklaus?  And yet, as hard as he tried to win, he accepted defeat as graciously as anyone ever could.  What a great example he set.

Another great competitor on the women's side was Nancy Lopez.  She was one of the best ever, and she was also one of the nicest.  I found this great quote from Nancy.  She said:

"Successful competitors want to win.  Head cases want to win at all costs."

Driving is about Seventy-Five Percent Mental

I think most people agree that the three most important clubs in the bag are the driver, the wedge, and the putter; not necessarily in that order.  

Ben Hogan felt the driver was the most important club, because a good drive set you up to be able to attack every hole.  It's hard to argue with that logic.  

This week in Dubai Rory McIlroy showed just how long, straight driving could help you dominate--even if the putt he made for bogey on seventeen will probably be most remembered as the moment when he really put his name on the trophy.

Sam Snead was a wonderful driver of the ball.  He also drove it long, and straight, and with a smooth rhythm that made it look effortless.  I like this quote I discovered from the Slammer:

"Driving is about seventy-five percent mental, so I believe in giving the ball some sweet talk on the tee. 'This isn't going to hurt a bit,' I whisper under my breath.  'Sambo is just going to give you a little ride.'"

I think I might just try a little sweet talk myself.