Tiger's Game

Tiger (Woods, as if) has a swing to envy, but not to copy. I hate it when teachers, pros, commentators try to get everyone to Be Like Tige...few, if any, have the body -- strength and flexibility -- to make Tigerlike moves even once. And his swing is a complex constellation of compensatory moves that has taken him decades to groove, and alter as his body changed from skinny adolescence to muscular maturity. 

Johnny Miller's comment yesterday (final round at Bay Hill) was spot on: his putting dominance is based more on "guts" than technique. Unlike the pretenders, Tiger doesn't leave putts short very often. Like all great putters, he's still dancing with the same girl, that SC Anser clone, and has not messed with, or up, his stroke.

And the short game: more guts, and technique, and strength. But he's not unbeatable; he actually loses 70% of the time. 

The day's final observation: the dominant players of each previous generation appeared in contrasting pairs: 

• Snead v. Hogan: Snead had the power, and the talent, that Hogan envied, but Hogan had the mental toughness and work ethic (and pure cussedness) that Snead didn't approach. They were both poor kids who valued the money, but Snead seemed to have enjoyed golf more (considering that he was still playing into the last year of his life)
  
• Palmer v. Nicklaus: Arnold was there first, the transformative power hitter who feared nothing, not trees, not long putts, not even young Jack, who hit it further and higher and straighter and smarter. Jack was the first of the rich kids.
• Nicklaus v. Trevino: another talent mismatch, but Trevino knew how to get under Jack's skin, and nobody ever played more smart shots, had more control, or more guts on the green than Lee...but if Nicklaus was playing his best, he was untouchable.
• Mickelson v. Woods: Each was a young phenom (Mickelson won a pro tournament before he turned pro), each was strong, both could putt...but Tiger is Hogan to Phil's Snead. He has the work ethic, the mental toughness, and the mean streak PLUS he has Team Tiger: Stevie, the IMG group, Elin...and Pappy's Ghost. 
• Woods v. ???: Not Els, not Garcia, not Harrington. Some kid, maybe McIlroy. 

 

Tiger, Tiger, burning bright

 The Tiger 

William Blake. 1757–1827

 

TIGER, tiger, burning bright in the forests of the night,

What immortal hand or eye could frame thy fearful symmetry? 

In what distant deeps or skies burnt the fire of thine eyes?

On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand dare seize the fire? 

And what shoulder and what art could twist the sinews of thy heart? 

And when thy heart began to beat, what dread hand and what dread feet? 

What the hammer? What the chain? In what furnace was thy brain?

What the anvil? What dread grasp dare its deadly terrors clasp? 

When the stars threw down their spears, and water'd heaven with their tears,

Did He smile His work to see? Did He who made the lamb make thee? 

Tiger, tiger, burning bright In the forests of the night,

What immortal hand or eye Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

Back to the real things

This happens to me occasionally: I get seduced by the driver technology that helps so much, and try some "forgiving" irons, which allows me to be sloppy, which raises the score and depresses the confidence.

So, once again, MP-29s, 2-PW. I can hit them, if my stroke is working, so having only blades in the bag forces me to be a better ballstriker. I suspect this would be true for anyone.

Last minute thoughts

It's still cold here, but I've put away the garage net. Nothing like seeing the trajectory. This winter I've completed the shift from 20th Century golf to 21st...no more working the ball, just pick a line and pound away.

No more blades. No more persimmon. Just POUND it, FIND it, POUND IT AGAIN.

Reflections on Doral

1. Tiger's putting, on familiar greens, from all distances, was a disappointment. 

2. I cannot remember seeing such poor decision-making from pros in contention; Phil tried to give it away, ignoring his caddy's warning, and Watney, sitting in the middle of the fairway after a decent drive on a par-five, with Phil not on the green after three shots, doesn't lay up to a decent wedge distance. Oh no, he goes for the green, pulls it into a bunker, takes two to get out, and ties Phil with a bogey.

Puke-o-rama!

3. Johnny Miller continues to make the best comments: "If I was Phil's caddy, I'd have him wear a shock collar."

The ultimate cureall...count on it!

Got the yips? Can't take the game from the range to the course? Find yourself quitting on shots? Too distractable? Confused?

Try this: The Counting Cure.

Caution: you must be a veteran golfer, one who has hit every possible good shot enough times so that you have a visual memory of what that shot looks like from your own vantage point as you watch it. If you have that experience, from a putt to a drive, try this.

First, visualize the shot you want to hit. 

Next, carefully set up to the ball. Make sure your ball-position, grip, body alignment and posture are all the way they should be to execute the shot you've chosen.

Next, waggle the club exactly three times, simulating the hand-action necessary for the chosen shot.

Next, bring the clubhead to a stop, either on the ground behind the ball, or hovering just above the ground behind the ball.

Next, rotate your right (back for a right-hander) thigh counter clockwise and move it toward the target,

Next, take the club back,

Next, strike the ball.

Now, here's the catch. Learn to do all of this while counting, in your head, 

ONE

TWO 

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

No other thoughts are allowed in, once you start the first waggle.

Works for me. 

Contrasting theories

The great Bobby Jones wrote, "No one ever swung a golf club too slowly." The great Ben Hogan write, "You can't turn your hips too fast."

Both are, imho, correct. Jones was referring to a swing; Hogan was referring to a stroke. A swing is at one end of a continuum, a stroke at another.

A swing is one, continuous, flowing action; a stroke is a complex collection of individual movements. A swing resembles a waterfall; a stroke is more like an internal combustion engine.

Every golfer has to decide on a model action - swing or stroke. Each has its benefits and costs. 

If a golfer adopts the swing as a model, he must learn to direct his awareness outward, to the clubhead. The ONLY sensation he should be aware of is the path of the clubhead, path referring both to the space through which the clubhead travels and to the pace of that clubhead as it moves through space. The benefit is ease of repetition; the cost is power.

If he adopts the stroke as a model, he must learn to direct his awareness inward. He will have to keep all of his body movements in his awareness. Because the stroke is so complex, it needs continual adjustment, and will be difficult to repeat; but the benefit is power - a stroker will send the ball much further than a swinger. Just not as accurately.

But truth to tell, we all become strokers sooner or later. Why? Because we're humans and we have to find a way to think through the complex, or golf would be as boring as working on an assembly line.

I'm just sayin'

There's one overriding reason I keep on golfing as I get older and weaker. That's very simple: every time I go to the range, or hit balls in my garage, or play a round of golf, I know for a fact that I've ended the day just a little bit closer to understanding golf.

That's progress, and incentive, rolled into one.

The challenge is to drop the arrogance that I believe tempts every good golfer and offer oneself up as ready to learn.

I've been fortunate to have had the opportunity to play on great courses against good competition and found a pro who gave me good guidance.

The strategy I've adopted for the coming year is to keep my effort at its most efficient level. I have to swing hard enough to make a true, ballistic stroke, where there's only one moment when I put energy into making the club go forward, but easy enough so that I have no sensation that I'm in danger of losing balance and falling, or, worse yet, pulling a muscle and putting myself in pain.

That means hitting my pitching wedge about 100 yards, +/-5. I can then count on about 12 yards difference between adjacent clubs: 88 for the gap, 76 and in to the green for the SW, 112 for the 9, 124 for the 8, 136 for the 7, 148 for the six, 160 for the five, 172 for the 4, 184 for the 3 and 196 for the 2. I can count on about 215 from the 3-metalwood and 235 from the Driver.

For me, that's what I get with a swing that feels like a 70% effort. It may be less, or more, but it's a start.

When I get on a course, if I have a 160-yard shot to a flag that's sitting on the back of a green, I sure don't want to go long: I want my next shot to be a putt, so my best chance of getting what I want is to hit my 6-iron, confident that even if I swing a little harder than I want, or catch it just right and have a little draw to deal with, I'm not going over. In short, I try to play every shot with the least opportunity for the worst outcome.

If I have the same distance to a hole cut on the left-front of a green, right behind a trap, then my shot is to grab the 4-iron and hit a high cut, aimed right at the flag. That way, I've taken the trap out of play, and if I overdo the cut, I have a putt or at worst a chip.

So, although I can count on 160 yards with a normal stroke with the 5-iron, I wouldn't use that club for either of these two circumstances. That's not the way a Tour pro thinks, and not the way I thought when I was young and stronger; it's the way I choose to strategize now.

It turns out, as I sit here and analyze it, that it's not the simplest way to play, but golf, for me at least, is the most complex game I've ever played. By comparison, chess and bridge, "intellectual" games, are both much simpler. Golf is like playing the New York Times Crossword puzzle. The structure is pretty much the same, day-to-day. After playing it hundreds of times, you get to know the standard crosswordese clues -- some of us refer to them as "Gimmees", like an 18" putt -- and you know there'll be days when you can't fill the grid without an error, and it takes you longer. But you just learn to keep working at them, and gradually you get better, and faster. Even the easiest Monday puzzle (Monday is the easiest, Saturday is the hardest, Sunday is the funkiest) is worth doing, like playing a short course with relatively flat greens. 

And that will be enough blogging for a Thursday afternoon.

Lessons from a pro

Most pros are selling a dream: good golf is easy.

Good golf is damned hard. It takes commitment, the desire to push your body to the limit, the psychological strength to do whatever is necessary to make the lowest possible score on every single hole you play, the intelligence to know what that score is. And the character to accept that no matter how hard you try, or how great your talent, there will still be the occasion when you hit a terrible shot, and it will be your fault, and you have to make the best of it.

In other words, good golf is not a relaxed, happy, pleasant walk in the park. Good golf is a trial, a task. Good golf feels great AFTERWARDS. 

Some pros will be honest and tell you that. They can help by pointing out things that you're doing that may seem right to you, but have been proven to be less than optimal. Sometimes those things are "fundamentals" that earlier golfers have proclaimed necessary to play good golf. For example, you might have gotten the advice that proper setup posture is as if you were sitting on a shooting stick, or a high stool, with your weight more toward your heels.

Modern teaching reverses that: you can move through the ball more efficiently if your weight is more toward your toes, on the balls of your feet. The difference is a matter of a few inches, but that small difference can help you to get more clubhead speed with less risk of injuring your lower back. A good pro will do more than tell you that: he'll CONVINCE you of that.

The hardest thing a pro has to do is take a chance on losing you as a paying customer by pointing out that what you're doing is wrong -- if you want to improve. 

But ask yourself: if the pro doesn't know better than you, or you can't accept the fact that he knows more than you, then why are you there?

Bottom line: either accept the fact that a pro can help you, or go be a pro yourself.