Bobby Jones on Golf

by Robert Tyre Jones

  Now with the club having completed about half of its backward travel, the left arm has become almost straight, and is pushing the club as far back as it can comfortably go. The arc of the swing is thus made wide so that the space and time for adding speed to the club head coming down will be as great as possible.

  The player who allows his left arm to bend perceptibly is sacrificing width of arc and power. His swing, because it is not as wide as it could be, is that much away from the ideal of efficiency that he could make it.

  There is nothing in the straight left arm that, of itself, increases the power of the swing. It is a part of a sound method, for those who are able to keep it straight, because it is the factor which definitely limits the arc of the backswing. Consequently, when the arm is straight, this arc is as wide as it can be made, and the swing can then be more easily repeated time after time in the same groove. Except that the bending of the arm reduces the width of the arc, and hence the time and space within which the speed of the club head may be built up, the chief loss from the bend is in precision.

  At that, few players keep the left arm rigidly straight during the backswing. I like to have the feeling of pushing the club back with the left arm because this assures that it will be reasonably extended, but the arm does not become completely straight until it is stretched out by the beginning of the reverse turn of the hips, back toward the ball, while the club is completing its backward movement.

  In order to complete a backswing of full length, at the same time keeping the left arm even approximately straight, there must be a good bit of movement in the hips and waist. Naturally, a good free turn of the hips is not so easy for the player past middle age, whose waistline lacks some of the suppleness of former years. If he wants to get the club back at all, the left elbow simply must give a little. There is no other way.

  The important thing, so far as the left arm is concerned, is that it should not collapse in the act of hitting. In the motion pictures of Harry Vardon, made when the great Englishman had passed his sixtieth birthday, a bend of almost ninety degrees could be seen in the left elbow at the top of the swing. Yet as soon as the hip-turn had stretched out the left side, this arm became straight, and remained so until after the ball had been struck. The bend at the top, then, is by no means fatal if the succeeding movements are performed correctly.

  What will help most is complete relaxation. Timing and rhythm can make up a lot in power. By all means, swing the club freely, both backward and forward, and avoid the tightening a short backswing must produce.

  But now that we are able to say what the left arm should do, we are up against the far more difficult problem of finding a way to make it do what it ought to. It is easy enough to say, “Keep the left arm straight.” But the average golfer wants to know how he can do it.

  Briefly stated, I think the most common cause of the collapse of the left arm in the act of striking results from the left elbow, in one way or another, being forced in against the side of the body. Many players seem to fear that the club head will not catch up in time. Consequently, they attempt to throw, or “cow-tail” it in ahead of the hands—exactly the thing that causes the left arm to fold up and become entirely useless. I have seen a good instructor, upon taking charge of such a pupil, shock him almost out of his senses by telling him to try to hit the ball with the sole of his club. The only thing intended to be accomplished by such advice was to turn the left elbow away from the side, so that the left arm could carry through.

  An examination of the grips used by expert golfers will show that in every instance the left hand is to some degree on top of the shaft. The effect of this is to present the elbow somewhat toward the hole, and to prevent a clamping of the upper left arm against the side of the body. The left arm should work closely across the chest and front, but there must never be any suggestion of the player’s “hugging himself” with it.

  4 USING THE GROUND

  No matter how simple the correct golf stroke ought to be, the job of describing it in language everyone can understand is not so easy. Those of us who strive to do this are continually searching for new ways of saying the same thing, in the hope that some new slant will appeal to those who have missed the older one. Since, in the last analysis, it is a feel we are trying to impart, even the most accurate exposition of the successive movements often finds the pupil entirely unresponsive. What he needs is the inspiration from some phrase or idea that will enable him to get the feel for himself.

  One such phrase, of comparatively recent origin, I like very much. Now one hears quite often of a player “using the ground” in hitting a golf ball. There is nothing new in the meaning it is intended to convey, but it is a different way of presenting the old idea, and I have no doubt that it will strike many players with more force than anything previously said to them.

  The average golfer is most deficient in his body movement. In the first stage, he is inclined to swing the club entirely with the arms. In the next stage, yielding to persuasion, he begins to make some use of the upper portion of his body. But sometimes one begins to think that nothing will ever bring him to the point where he will make sufficient use of his legs and hips—in other words, “use the ground.”

  Somewhere Abe Mitchell wrote that the player should “move freely beneath himself.” To me, this is an excellent way of suggesting the ample use of legs and hips underneath a head that maintains an approximately fixed location to act as anchor for the swing. It suggests both the lateral and turning hip-movement characteristic of the better players. But I think “using the ground” adds something to this.

  The idea of “using the ground” does away first with the notion that the feet must be rooted firmly and fixedly in the turf. It implies, of course, a positive connection, but the conception is one of action rather than of being solidly planted. The player who intends to use his legs is not so likely to put them out of commission by “statuizing” himself before he begins his swing.

  A tremendous amount of power can be derived from a correct use of the hips, legs, and the muscles of the back. These sources are almost entirely neglected by the average golfer, who swings the club mainly with his arms. In the correct swing, the left hip leads the movement back toward the ball, generating speed and power as the unwinding progresses. At the instant of impact, the hips have turned through their positions at address, and the lower part of the body is facing almost squarely toward the hole. The unwinding of the hips culminates in a sort of wrench just before the club meets the ball, both legs combining to produce a sudden and powerful thrust up the left side of the body.

  It so happens that I feel and control this movement in the hips. But there is no reason why it should not be sensed and controlled through the feet. The turn of the body, of course, would not be feasible unless the feet maintained a positive grip upon the ground. The feeling of giving the ground a wrench with the feet may be easier for some than the sense of compelling the hip movement in some other way.

  “Using the ground” means using the hips and legs. The man who stands flat upon both feet throughout the swing and moves his club by means of his arms and shoulders is not doing either. Neither is he making much of a golf swing. Whether one prefers to “swing beneath himself” or “use the ground,” he must get some use from his legs in order to play good golf.

  Starting with both toes turned slightly outward, a great many players make the mistake of raising the left heel at the very start of the backswing by bending the left knee directly over the left foot without any semblance of a turn. The effect of this action quite obviously is to cause too much weight to remain on the left foot at the top of the swing, in addition to effecting a serious restriction of the turn away from the ball.

  It is possible to describe the correct backward turn as a movement of the hips or of the knees or of the feet. All have their parts to do, but it is not likely that all players would derive an equally clear conception if the thing were treated in only one way.

  As related to th
e feet, then, the correct action transfers the weight supported by the left leg to the inside of the foot, and at the top of the swing the left heel has been pulled from the ground and the inside of the ball of the foot is bearing the burden. The exact reverse of this action takes place on the right side, for there the weight at the top of the swing rests upon the outside of the heel. In my own case, and in that of all players who employ a full body turn, the weight is moved so far back on the right foot that the large toe is actually lifted from the ground.

  To think of starting the backward motion by moving the weight over to the inside of the ball of the left foot is often the easiest way to originate the correct action, for this movement of itself turns the left knee back and forces the turn of the right side. Of course, the same result could be accomplished by thinking of the movement of the knee itself or of the turn of the hips. It is purely a question of the easiest method for the individual.

  It is important, whatever method is followed, that the motion be smooth and unhurried. In order that it may be so, there must be no precarious position at address from which a hurried takeoff would be likely—an easy, comfortable position, with the weight borne about equally by the two feet and resting neither upon the heel nor the toe of either foot.

  Two things sadly neglected by the average golfer are footwork and body movement. They begin, as it were, at the wrong end of the problem, working first upon the control of the club head by the arms, and then turning the body or moving the feet and knees just enough to accommodate the necessary travel of the arms. The golf swing is, of course, a thing to be done by arms and body, but I do not believe that the body motion should be limited by the arm movement. An English surgeon points out that the trunk muscles are the most powerful muscles of the body, and, although I do not agree with the methods he recommends for their use, yet he is eminently right when he says that they ought to be used actively.

  In fact, there can be little question that the turn of the hips and shoulders, and the accommodation and balancing of this turn upon the feet and legs is the essence of effective form. In the accomplishment of it is found the most noticeable difference between the expert and the handicap man. It is largely responsible for the difference between 240 yards and the 175 which the arm-swinger is happy to attain.

  5 STAYING DOWN TO THE BALL

  The average golfer would be a lot better off if no one had ever said anything about the necessity for keeping the eyes glued upon the ball. There is infinite virtue, as so many have pointed out, in maintaining some sort of anchor for the swing. I always think of it as “staying down to the ball.” But when a person begins to think about keeping his head immovable and concentrates upon keeping his eye fixed upon the ball, trouble is being invited. The very act of trying to do something that is natural to do anyway sets up a tension that is hard to break. It is perfectly natural to look at an object one is trying to hit, and ordinary observation and awareness of its presence and location are sufficient. When a man gazes fixedly at a golf ball, he is doing something wholly unnecessary and destructive of the rhythm and relaxation he has striven for. I have found little value in the maxim, “keep your eye on the ball,” except on the putting green and in playing very short approaches. The longer shots that are missed are usually caused by something else.

  Although it is unquestionably true that, in order to strike the ball accurately, the player’s eye must correctly observe the point of contact, still it is a fact that there can be faults in the swing which may cause the head to come up without having any relation to a desire to see too quickly where the ball may be going. So many times, the average golfer accuses himself of looking up when he is lifting his head for quite a different reason.

  It is true that on the putting green, the ultimate objective, the hole, and several intermediate ones, in the succession of little spots which constitute the line are so tantalizingly near to the player’s field of vision as he addresses the ball that some effort is required to assure concentration upon the one important act of striking the ball correctly. For this reason, it often helps to fix the gaze consciously upon a point on the ball’s surface which it is intended shall be struck.

  But this difficulty does not exist when a drive from the tee or a long shot to the green is to be made. In such cases, it is comparatively easy to detach oneself from distant objects sufficiently to give attention to the ball. And then one rarely looks up. It is the most natural thing in the world, when distractions have been removed, to look at the thing that is to be struck, and the possibility becomes very remote that the player will lift his head too soon if he swings his club correctly. The expert player hardly ever tops a brassie shot, not because of the determined way in which he keeps his eye glued upon the ball, but because his correct swing allows him to keep his head down.

  The correct swing is performed by the entire body under a head that is practically stationary. Some have called the head the anchor of the swing, and perhaps that is as sound a conception as could be found. The important thing is that the chin does not, and must not, turn around with the shoulders, but on the contrary, actually moves toward the rear as the swing sweeps forward beneath it.

  The most common cause of head lifting is to be found in the right side. Whenever the right side and right arm, instead of holding the player down, fail in this function and produce a sort of heaving stroke, the head is forced to move. When this is recognized, we can go back still farther and fix the fault mainly upon a too-early discharge of the cock of the wrists. When this angle straightens out too early in the downstroke, the club head is forced below its proper path, and the heave becomes necessary in order to bring it up to the ball.

  The player who preserves the angle of his wrist-cock, and who keeps his swing down by means of the proper action of the right side, and a taut left arm, does not need to worry about looking up. Indeed, he will find nothing in the world so interesting, at this particular moment, as the back side of the ball that he is going to strike.

  6 TIMING

  It is unfortunate that the most important feature of the golf stroke is so difficult to explain or to understand. We all talk about good timing, and faulty timing, and the importance of timing, and yet no one has been able to fix upon a means of saying what timing is. The duffer is told that he spoils his shot because his stroke is not properly timed, but no one can tell him how he can time it properly.

  One common error causing bad timing can be pointed out with sufficient exactness to give the enterprising average golfer something to work on. I mean the error of beginning to hit too early in the downward stroke. I have said that it is a common error. It is an error common to all golfers, a chronic lapse in the case of the expert, but an unfailing habit in the case of the dub. I believe it will be found that of the players who turn in scores of ninety and over, ninety-nine out of every hundred hit too soon on ninety-nine out of every hundred strokes. Many who play even better golf and have really acceptable form fail to play better than they do for this very reason.

  Hitting too soon is a fault of timing in itself. It causes the player to reach the ball with a large part of the power of the stroke already spent. Instead of being able to apply it all behind the ball, he has expended a vast amount upon the air where it could do no good. Apparently, everyone fears that he will not be able to strike out in time when, as a matter of fact, there has not been one single player come under my observation. Who has been habitually guilty of late hitting. Sometimes he will fail to close the face of the club by the time the club reaches the ball, but this is always due to something entirely apart from tardy delivery.

  The primary cause of early hitting is to be found in the action of the right hand and wrist. If the left hand has a firm grip upon the club, so long as it remains in control there can be no premature hitting. The left side is striking backhanded, and it will prefer to pull from the left shoulder, with the left elbow straight, rather than to deliver a blow involving an uncocking of the wrists.

  But the right hand thro
ughout the stroke is in the more powerful position. Its part in the stroke is on what in tennis would be called the forehand. It is moving forward in the direction easiest for it to follow. Because the player is intent upon effort, and upon hitting hard, the right hand tends to get into the fight long before it has any right to enter. The right hand must be restrained if it is not to hit before its time arrives.

  7 DELAYING THE HIT

  I wish everyone could study carefully a few sets of motion pictures snowing the proper action of the right side, noting particularly the successive positions of the wrists. In the case of an expert player, the wrists remain fully cocked, just as they were at the top of the swing, until at least half of the down-stroke has been completed by the arms.

  The dub, on the other hand, starts immediately when coming down to whip the club with his wrists. He forthwith takes all the coil out of his spring, and when his hands reach the position corresponding to the numeral eight on the dial of a watch, his wrists are perfectly straight, and all the power left is in his arms and shoulders, to be utilized by any twist or contortion the player can execute.

  Whenever you see a player (who is apparently going along easily) blow wide open under the strain of competition, the chances are that the most immediate cause of the detonation is an unruly right hand, a hand that has gotten out of control because of the anxiety and nervousness of the player.

  I think I can say truthfully that I am always on guard against a misapplication of right-hand power, but that even then it gets me. For a right-handed person it is, of course, perfectly natural to want to do everything with that hand, and it becomes necessary not to call it in when it is needed, but to keep it out when it is not. The consciousness is of exclusion rather than of use. To my mind, the right hand is absolutely useless, except as a steadying factor, throughout the entire backswing, and nearly half of the downstroke, or hitting stroke. Its first real use comes when it assumes command for the actual delivery of the blow.