Since joining my club (oh I DO like to say ‘My Club’), I have taken some lessons. Starting from a very low base I have now proceeded to slightly above poor. I can hit the ball, most of the time, from the practice mat and have even managed to get the ball to go straight, but it’s inconsistent and I have a habit of falling backwards. My teacher is brilliant, he explains what I need to do and I understand perfectly. Unfortunately my arms and legs don’t understand. To be fair I have progressed; first I learnt how to stand and be balanced, then I moved on to ‘the finish’. Now at the end of the swing I look like a professional golfer with the club behind me and staring into the distance to see where the ball has landed. A perfect picture spoilt, alas, by the minor technicality of the ball going about 20 yards and to the right but I do look good. Next was breathing, the idea being that if you exhale just before you take a swing the club has less of an arc to swing through, which in my case is some considerable distance. This has all helped and I have put it into practice on the course and if it wasn’t for the ball I would have excellent rounds.
There is one area where I have some success and that is putting. Getting used to smooth grass instead of potholed concrete took a bit of doing but I eventually got the hang of it. My style doesn’t really conform to any golf manual but it works for me. I still have disasters, usually after spending 10 shots to get to the green and completely losing all concentration but by and large I can usually get the ball in the hole with 2 putts, or 3 max. This has been most encouraging especially when sinking a 35 foot putt without even a practice shot. It’s little victories like this that keep you going, indeed being able to reach the green at all is a victory in itself.
The good thing about belonging to a club is the ability to go and play at virtually any time you want to. There are times when it’s difficult; for instance when there are competitions but generally if you turn up you can fit in somewhere even if it’s not at the first hole. We’ve even been able to turn up on a Saturday and get straight out. My experience of playing municipal courses is one of being too crowded and feeling rushed because there are people behind catching up. We let people through of course but it’s a bit much finishing after someone who started 3 hours after you! This is not conducive to learning to play better as you tend to rush your shots and end up playing more than you would if left to your own devices. Ross doesn’t have this problem as a golfist of many years standing and actually has a handicap, these days ME. He’s very patient and encouraging and is leading me astray. Playing at My Club (there I go again, it sounds sooo good) means no pressure to hurry up; there have been many occasions when the nearest people behind us have been 5 or 6 holes back. This means if you don’t like the shot you can put another ball down and have another go; as we’re not counting score it doesn’t matter but it helps me to learn which club to use, how to play off different lies and of course exaggerating my prowess. All this is very useful for the 19th hole where I am on the verge of winning The Open, in my head.
Speaking of ‘in my head’ this is where the art of golf lies; it is all ‘in the head’. If you get the head right then after that it’s merely a case of mechanics. The good thing about learning at my age is that I’m not trying to hammer the ball into orbit just get it a bit nearer the hole; as long as the mechanics are right the ball should go roughly in the right direction. I checked my ego in at the door some years ago when playing rugby; an ageing prop has no chance of catching a 19 year old winger so more subtle methods are required. The same applies to golf; I can’t out drive a youngster so why bother trying, just play it straight and rely on the putting. Actually I’ve only played a couple of youngsters so I really haven’t a clue what I’m talking about; that’s a perfect qualification for the 19th hole or Westminster.
What can golf actually give me, apart from a massive inferiority complex? Remarkably it actually gives me a sense of calm. How does that work? I hear you ask. Well it takes me away from ‘normal’ life all I have to think about is the golf, the countryside and talking absolute bollocks. Well I do the last one already but you know what I mean. The only other thing that really calms me and empties my head of all worries is flying my power kites. In some ways it’s very similar to golf; first what happens is down to you. You have to judge the wind speed and direction, get it wrong and you can fall flat on your face, literally; Secondly, when you’re concentrating on keeping the kite in the air all day to day thoughts are gone; Thirdly, both sports take place in generally beautiful locations. They also both knacker you, though kite flying has the edge on that.
Golf lessons are all very well, but the only way to really learn is to practice, practice, and practice. Getting to play is always difficult, life tends to get in the way, but since it was my wife who encouraged me to write about the golf this has given me a good excuse, all in the name of research.
My research so far has taught me that small white balls have a mind of their own (other colours are equally obstinate), golf clubs can sometimes travel further than the ball and that golf balls can hide in plain view. Are they covered in stealth paint? How do they do it? You watch the little buggers, you see where they land and when you get there they’re gone. Now, either they learnt camouflage from the SAS or the golf fairies are out and about. Somewhere there is a massive, multi-coloured pile of golf balls which are distributed every now and again. You’ll be walking along with nothing in sight and then there’ll be a golf ball in front of you. Where did it come from? It’s not yours, it’s right in the middle of the fairway (that’s a giveaway as to why it isn’t yours) and there is no-one on a parallel hole looking for it. It has to be fairies. These elusive creatures are possibly annoyed that their space has been invaded or they’re dressed in garish shirts and trousers and carry small bags holding teeny weeny golf clubs. These mischievous little folk have other tricks up their polo shirt sleeves. You’ll hit a fabulous approach shot and see it land on the green close to the flag and when you get there it has miraculously disappeared and can be found resting nicely up against the front edge of the bunker. There is also a sound of strange ethereal sniggering in the air.
The good thing is the fairies are definitely outdoor types who don’t venture inside. This means there’s no danger of being shown up when you get into the clubhouse bar. All your shots were perfect, no lost balls and if you didn’t land right next to the pin you sank a very long, left to right then right to left, uphill, downhill, round the corner, through the windmill putt.
Talking tosh is one thing golfists need no lessons in; apparently it comes free with every new set of balls.
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