The little twist of the hips is a valuable aid in starting the swing smoothly, because it assists in breaking up any tension that 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 body and knees, and its chief function is to assure a smooth start of the swing by setting the body 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. That depends too much upon how long is required for the player to settle into a comfortable position; 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 worry. In many cases, it will help to determine for a while to just step up to the ball and hit it.
9 THE POSITION OF THE HEAD
Someone once asked me if I was conscious of looking at the ball with my left eye rather than with my right. I replied that I was not, and that if I looked at the ball with either eye, it was a habit of such long standing that I no longer thought about it. “But,” the man insisted, “I noticed that you and Walter Hagen and a good many of the other fellows held your heads in such a position that you appeared to be looking at the ball with the left eye. Surely, there must have been some reason for or advantage to be derived from the practice. I should like to know what it was.”
I confessed that the position of my head when preparing to hit a golf ball was entirely instinctive. I began to do it long before I ever gave a thought to style or the mechanics of the stroke. I believe the same thing to have been true in Hagen’s case. But several years ago I did have demonstrated to me the importance of the head position in its effect upon the rest of the stroke. I have never attached much importance to the “master eye” theory. I don’t think it makes any difference which of a man’s eyes is the stronger or whether he gazes at any particular point on the cover of the ball. All that he needs is to be able to measure the distance and to locate accurately the ball’s position. I am told that he can do this better with two eyes than with one.
Back in 1927, it happened that Joe Kirkwood and I were on the same ship going to St. Andrews for the British Open. The captain of the vessel was kind enough to rig up a driving net for us on the upper deck, and every day Joe and I would go up to hit a few balls. The practice was of no value, even with a gentle roll of the ship, but it did serve to prevent our hands becoming tender. But hammering balls into a net is a dull business at best, and finally Joe began to do some of his famous trick shots and, of course, I tried to follow him. Naturally, there were very few I could accomplish without more practice than we had time for.
But one series of shots that Joe introduced to me shed a good bit of fight on this question of the position of the head. These shots were played with an iron. Three balls would be placed on the mat, in line, and Joe would hit the first while looking directly behind him, the second while looking into the eye of an observer standing directly across the ball from him, and the third while looking in the direction in which the flag or the objective would lie. That looked fairly simple, after locating the first ball, so I had a go at it. After a few trials, I could hit the first ball, looking down the deck away from the canvas, and the second, looking at Joe standing at the other end of the mat, but the third, looking into the canvas in the direction of the flag, I could never hit, nor even make a respectable pass at it. With my chin to the front, I found it impossible to turn my hips or to swing the club back at all. The most I could do was to lift the club up and hack at the ball.
Alex Morrison, the famous teacher, more than anyone else, I think, has harped upon the “chin-back” idea. I am convinced that it is sound, for it places the head in a position where it will not tie up the rest of the body, either on the backswing or in the act of hitting the ball. Whenever you see a leading golfer hit a ball, watch his head. You will find that he either starts his swing with his head cocked a bit backward, or else he turns it for a few inches as the club goes back, and it won’t make any difference whether he is “left-eyed” or “right-eyed.”
10 “REACHING” FOR THE BALL
I wonder if the average golfer, while he is planting his feet and contorting his body preparatory to sending off one of his screaming drives, ever stops to think about the trouble he is starting for himself. I wonder if he ever conjures up in his mind a picture of any first-class golfer making the same preparations. If he does, I wonder if he thinks there is something supernatural, something unattainable, in the easy attitude, the graceful poise of the accomplished professional.
Addressing a golf ball would seem to be a simple matter; that is, to the uninitiated who cannot appreciate that a golf ball can hold more terrors than a spacious auditorium packed with people. Yet the 99 9/10 per cent who find golf a mysteriously difficult game apparently pack as much tension, strain, and other unnatural elements as possible into the act of merely making ready to swing the club. Watch any good pro walk up to a ball and prepare to sock it. He steps lightly up to his place; he falls easily into position; he stands with his body comfortably erect; he does not reach out for the ball; in short, he appears in every detail perfectly at ease and relaxed.
The handicap man, on the other hand, goes through the same process in an entirely different way. He fusses around with his feet trying to find the best place for each of them. When he thinks that he has placed them properly, he proceeds to plant them firmly, to root them immovably into the ground. He then bends low over the ball and stretches out until he can reach to a distance he thinks will enable him to hit it. In all this, there is a complete restriction of his muscles that makes it impossible for him to relax after the swing once gets under way.
Confidence that he knows what he is about has a lot to do with the easy attitude characteristic of the first-class professional, but I should not be surprised if the handicap player would soon find reason for a little more confidence in his own ability if he would imitate the nonchalance of his more capable brother. Let him stroll up to the shot more or less casually, keep his feet closer together, his body more erect, and in a natural carriage and posture try to lose some of the tension which comes of trying to set himself in just such a way.
I have seen worlds of trouble caused by bending the left arm too much at address, this in its turn being made necessary by bending the body over too far. The evil of this posture is that in the act of hitting, when the left arm straightens out, the head and shoulders must be elevated to accommodate the greater stretch of the arms. Since the head and shoulders are the anchor points of the stroke, it is not hard to see that such a happening upsets the whole business and leaves the arc of the swing dangling in midair without a resting point.
To lean over and reach for the ball has two other effects that are definitely harmful. First, the reaching produces a tension in the muscles of the forearms; and second, the excessive bend at the waist considerably lessens the player’s ability to turn his hips freely. Both are bad, but it seems to me that the tying up of the hips is by far the worse, because it is in the use of the muscles in the waist and back that the average golfer is most deficient. It is safe to say that not one player in a thousand turns his hips enough.
Whatever virtue there may be in getting up close to the ball, so far as concerns the possibility that the eyes may thus be better placed to line up the shot, may be disregarded. The important fact is that the more erect posture makes it easier for all members and muscles of the body to cooperate in a smooth and powerful stroke.
11 AN INSIDIOUS HABIT
One reason golf is such an exasperating game is that a thing learned is so easily forgotten, and we find ourselves struggling year after year with faults we had discovered and corrected time and again. But no correction seems to have a permanent effect, and as soon as our minds become busy with another part of the swing, the old defection p
ops up again to annoy us.
This is especially true with respect to placing the ball in the position of address. Apparently of little importance, this is one of the most vital considerations in hitting a golf ball, not that one position is correct for every player, but because for each player there is one position which, with the peculiarities of his method, enables him to hit the ball most easily and most effectively.
In my particular case, this position happens to be at a point about opposite the middle of my left foot, and this is true when using any club for almost any kind of shot. Of course, the exigencies of a peculiar situation may alter this position to some extent, but normally it remains the same. With the ball in this forward position, all the power of the stroke can be applied behind the ball; there is no additional tension and loss of power because of a position which requires the player to hold back in order to meet the ball squarely.
It is not difficult to see that if the swing is adjusted to strike the ball in a certain position, even a slight variation in the position of the ball, the swing remaining the same, will cause an error in hitting. No golfer needs to be told what ruinous results may follow from even a small mistake. Taking the ball an inch too soon or an inch too late may throw it many yards off line at the end of its flight.
Placing the ball at address should always receive minute attention. Too many times we step up confidently and carelessly to play a shot, and fall readily into a position that feels comfortable and is, we think, the accustomed attitude. Without giving the thing a thought, we hit the shot and are at a loss to explain the pull or slice that results. A tiny error is enough, and it is very easy to overlook.
At Winged Foot in the 1929 National Open Championship, I played my irons better than at any other time in my life—that is, in important competition—and I don’t think I should have done so had I been left entirely to my own devices. On the morning of the first day, I went out on the East Course to warm up a bit before starting. After hitting a few drives that went off all right, I dropped back to a four-iron, a club I used in practice as a sort of indicator to the prospective behavior of all its companions. With it I hit shot after shot, trying everything I could think of, but all went to the right of the objective except a few that I tried to keep straight by a vigorous roll of the right hand. These were just as far off line in the other direction. This was not exactly a pleasant situation to confront immediately before starting a tournament.
Finally, T. N. Bradshaw of Atlanta, who made the trip with me and who was watching my practice, spoke up. Brad had played with me at least as much as anyone, and he knew my game. A suggestion from him could never be out of place.
“I think you are playing the ball too far back, Bob,” he said quietly.
I myself did not think so, but I was in a mood to try anything. So I played the next few a bit farther forward and from that time had no more trouble. This gave me one more thing to think about, but it was worth more than all the others.
A slight change of position is hard for the player himself to detect, especially if he plays for any appreciable time in that way. But to move the ball interferes not at all with the swing. To try a different position endangers none of the elements of touch, timing, or rhythm. And very often it will be found to be the exact adjustment required. It is impossible to contend that the same relative positions of ball and feet are proper for every player. But if anyone is off his game, it will do no harm to experiment—to shift the ball nearer the left foot to correct a slice, and nearer the right foot to correct a hook. If it works, it is the simplest specific that can be given.
CHAPTER THREE
1 THE PURPOSE OF THE BACKSWING
2 ORIGINATING THE BACKSWING
3 ARGUMENTS FOR A LONG BACKSWING
4 ROLL OF THE LEFT FOOT
5 COCKING THE WRISTS
6 THE POSITION AT THE TOP
7 SHIFTING THE WEIGHT
Starting Back
CHAPTER THREE
1 THE PURPOSE OF THE BACKSWING
It is often urged that a person playing golf who worries about how to take the club back, how to start it down, and what to do at this stage and at that, ultimately loses sight of the only important thing he has to do—to hit the ball. We, who write on the game and those who attempt to teach it, are told often enough that we should give more attention to the contact stage and less to the details of the preparatory movements.
It is true, of course, that it, is not impossible to hit an occasional good shot even though all the teachings and practice of the experts in fundamentals may be disregarded; but one who takes the long-range viewpoint cannot fail to appreciate that the basis of consistent and reliable performance is good form. There are certain actions that must take place during the act of hitting if the ball is to be struck with accuracy and power. A haphazard, uninformed player once in a while may find himself in position to complete these actions, but he cannot hope to compete successfully with the man whose sound swing carries him time after time into this position.
The downward or hitting stroke is intended to culminate in a well-timed, powerful contact between club head and ball. There is no way to argue that the successful accomplishment of this purpose is not the most important part of the stroke; but the backswing has for its purpose the establishment of a perfectly balanced, powerful position at the top of the swing from which the correct actions of the downstroke can flow rhythmically without the need for interference or correction. In the end, on the basis of consistent reproduction of the successful action, the preparatory movements become just as important as the actual hitting—the entire swing, a sequence of correct positions, following naturally and comfortably one after the other.
2 ORIGINATING THE BACKSWING
I have always favored a method that brings the club back well away from the line of play—around the body, if you please—because such a stroke has the advantage of greater power without sacrificing accuracy, if it is executed correctly. The most striking difference between the expert and the good businessman golfer is in the use of the hips and body, and any attempt to swing the club in a more upright arc—straight back from the ball—is likely to discourage still further the correct use of these members. This effort is likely to produce a swing accomplished by the arms alone, leaving an important source of power entirely neglected.
The moderate flatness of the swing that I like must result from a correct body-turn, and not from manipulation of the club by the hands and wrists. Many players begin the backswing with a sudden pronation of the left wrist that whips the club sharply around the legs, opening the face very quickly. This is just as bad as a swing straight back, carrying the arms away from the player’s body.
The initial movement of the club away from the ball should result from forces originating in the left side. The real takeoff is from the left foot, starting the movement of the body. The hands and arms very soon pick it up, but the proper order at the very beginning is body, arms, and lastly club head. It is always easier to continue a motion than to begin it; this order has the virtue of originating the hip-turn; it goes a long way toward assuring a proper windup of the hips during the backswing.
It is easy to think of the golf swing entirely in terms of the club head, and, after getting set, more or less painfully, to begin the backswing by some sort of movement of the hands to start the club head going. Regardless of what this movement may be, it is bound to result in neglect of the all-important turning movement.
The period of contact between club and ball is practically instantaneous. To move the club head backward and forward as much as possible along the line of flight means very, very little; all that is necessary is that it be properly aligned and moving in the right direction at one particular instant—when it strikes the ball.
3 ARGUMENTS FOR A LONG BACKSWING
Probably the most important and useful conception for the golfer is that of swinging, ever swinging, as opposed to the idea of forceful hitting. This is the chief reason that relaxation is s
tressed so endlessly, for tension impedes a free swing, and often checks the blow before the ball has been struck. A true swing, after building up speed, offers no counterforce diminishing power, but makes efficient use of all the energy that has been stored up.
One of the characteristics of the true swing, and the one that most often escapes the inexpert player, is the ample sweep of the backward windup. The average golfer, partly because he is unfamiliar with the movements that will accommodate a long backswing, and partly because he does not trust himself to go so far, almost always favors a short, hacking stroke. Quickly back and quickly down, employing a sudden acceleration almost amounting to a jerk, there is scarcely any chance of obtaining power or accuracy.
The most usual argument in favor of a backswing of good length is that it allows a longer arc and more time to attain the maximum club head speed at the instant of contact. But there are others of at least equal force. It is certain that the more gradual acceleration made possible by the longer backswing is bound to make the swing much smoother and less likely to be yanked out of its groove; also, it is certain that it makes it possible to attain an equal speed with less sudden effort and therefore less likelihood of introducing contrary forces detracting from the power of the stroke.
The whole force of a sound swing is not dissipated at the ball. It is desirable that the blow should be directed through the ball, and not merely at it. The feeling is that the club head, having built up its full speed, is merely floating through the last little space immediately prior to contact. The moment one feels an awareness of having to hit—the need of an extra effort—the hands tighten upon the club, resistance is set up, and the motion is slowed down rather than accelerated.
Bobby Jones on Golf Page 5
