Ye who hurtest me

Golf takes a lot to watch. Most think you're nuts to spend hours watching a bunch of out-of-shape dudes hitting golf shots. These people have no idea where the real pain comes from:

Commentators.

Nantz. Azinger. Tilghman.

These people talk about golf on a professional basis, so listening to them should be a joy. But it's not, it's fingers on a chalkboard. Pain. Bleeding ears. So I present to you my best and worst picks of golf commentators.

Best golf commentator

Johnny Miller

This man is a golf God. Not only does he have the bona fides ('63 Oakmont anyone?) to call "choke" on any pro's shot, but he actually can't help himself from saying it--he has no "off button." Puke, choke, duff, and fan are all part of his lingual repetoire, and in contrast to the corporate shills who call golf at other channels, Johnny is like daylight in a musty basement.

2nd Best golf commentator

David Feherty


I have a theory that the more a person suffers the better a coversationalist they become. Feherty seems to fit the bill--a journeyman pro (suffering) who had an over-enthusiastic fondness for Scotch (more suffering) who's Irish (double suffering). This type of guy usually has a unique perspective on life and golf. Love him. Would love to have a drink with him.

3rd Best golf commentator



Roger "Rog" Maltbie.

Nothing more need be said. Except he's the ham to Johnny Miller's eggs. During a broadcast nothing makes me happier to hear, "John that was a heckuva shot."

4th Best golf commentator


Nick Faldo

Faldo is an ego (full disclosure: I worked as a cable-puller for CBS at Firestone in Akron, and he once chided a friend and coworker for moving during a putt: "You'll never work in this business again." Of course none of us worked in "the business" in the first place so we laughted pretty hard) but when he works for the Golf Channel, he's spot on with his assessment of the mindset of pro's brains. He's perceptive, irreverant, and ballsey. But once he starts calling it for CBS it's a new, boring ballgame...

5th Best golf commentator


Gary McCord

Anyone who can be banned by the crackers at Augusta National for uttering "bikini wax" is okay in my book.


Tie: Jerry Foltz, Curt Byrum, Brandel Chamblee




If only the broadcast golf guys could learn to be as straighforward as these guys.




6th Best golf commentator

Ian Baker-Finch
Like Feherty, this guy has suffered--he won the Open, and then... was never heard from again. He has humility and only calls players on failure of brain (i.e. stupid plays) and not failure of body (pushes, pulls, slices, hooks, et al). Baker-Finch carries a snarky-free zone around him when he commentates and for that I thank him.

7th Best golf commentator

Frank Nobilo
A bright spot at the Golf Channel, he's pretty fair in his crit of pro players. "Bad, not good, weak, un-smart" are never parts of his lexicon, which leads me to think he has a heart and listens to it. Frank's family is also part of a 300-year wine-producing tradition (which can never hurt my estimation of anyone.)


8th Best golf commentator

Peter "Oostie" Oosterhuis
A well-heeled Brit with impeccable decency, this dude will never, ever, ever say anything unseemly about a golfer. Although I implicitly don't trust tall golfers (he's 6'7", the extra leverage is an unfair advantage) this guy I trust.




Now, let me show you my picks for "worst" golf commentators.

1st Worst golf commentator

Jim Nantz
There are two kinds of sportscasters: those who feel lucky to witness sport's great moments and those who feel they are sport's great moments. Needless to say, Nantz is the latter. It's almost as if the golf event takes place so that Nantz can encapsulate it with a "timeless" comment (who can forget "A win for the ages" after Wood's (painfully boring) '97 Masters' win). It's especially galling to watch him call the Masters, where he tempers every boring comment against the constrictive standards of the Old Boys' Network at Augusta. Nantz is kind of like the former U.S. generals who pimped positivity for the Pentagon: bought and paid for.


2nd Worst golf commentator
Lanny Wadkins
I'll bet my paycheck that Lanny is a by-the-numbers-rich-guy-ain't-gonna-pay-no-taxes Republican, but that isn't my beef with him (though I love pointing this out). His problem is that he's boring and offers no more golf insight than a gila monster. A player hits a shot offline, Lanny responds, "Jim, that is not a good shot." Really? I didn't know you needed to jar a sand shot at the '83 Ryder Cup to have such genius insight.

3rd Worst golf commentator

Curtis Strange
Like Wadkins, Strange comes from the "painfully obvious" school of commentating. "Ian, that was not a good shot by [insert pro golfer name.] His challenge on the next shot is to hit a good one." Duh.

And what is it with pro golfers and hunting?


Peter Kostis

Greeks make good gyros but I can't figure out what Kostis's value-added contribution to golf is. He's got a great rug, but aside from that, I'm lost as to why I have to listen to him chatter-on every weekend.



Gary Koch
His only claim to fame is his fetish with 3-woods that take a divot from the tee box. Exciting.




Azinger is a weirdo. Remember the clip where a player's caddie puts his hand on the player's butt to help him into a tree to find his ball? Azinger "wouldn't put his hand there." Remember when Azinger called Fred Funk the "...most accurate driver in golf" and Faldo told him to "...hang on a tick: what about the Euros?" Azinger is, and continues to be, a mess, and the sooner he leaves broadcasting the sooner I can forget worring about his next homophobic comment.




Honorable mention best/worst commentator


Kelly Tilghman

Kelly Tilghman is not a bad golf commentator. She knows golf in and out. But she's not "one of the boys"--though she desperately tries to act the part. As an actor, she's not experienced enough to improvise (remember Tiger's "lynching"?) and she's not comfortable enough with Faldo (6-time major winner) to ham-n-egg it. She tries to be Jim Nantz (or at least who Jim Nantz thinks Jim Nantz is) when she should be happy to be Brian Hammons (or whatever the fuck his name is). If Kelly relaxed and didn't try to be the biggest dick in the booth, she'd be pretty good.

Golf nightmare comes to pass

Below is the story of something I always knew would happen:

Langer's son shoots 98-91 at Dutch Open

By Golf.com Staff Report
Published: August 24, 2007

Teenage newcomer Stefan Langer of Germany, son of two-time Masters champion Bernhard Langer, improved his score Friday at the Dutch Open — but not by much.

After shooting a 98 on Thursday, Langer rebounded with a 91, finishing at 49 over par and securing last place by 28 strokes over Andrew Hastie.

In his two rounds, Langer made one birdie, nine pars, 12 bogeys, and 14 double bogeys or worse. One of the "or worse" scores was a 12 on the par-5 second hole in the first round.

His father fared much better, shooting rounds of 67-71 to finish at two under par.

That's one of those sport's nightmares that we all know could happen to us, and, honestly, there isn't an ounce of my usual schadenfreude in evidence. It's not that we'll ever face the same challenge--playing with your dad in a pro tournament and shooting close to 100--it's just that we've all needlessly felt embarrassed by similarly bad rounds, and it's sickening to watch someone else go through it. Bernhard didn't act as if he was embarrassed by his son's performance, he seemed to view it as a test of his son's character. From the online UK Mirror:

"There are two ways to react," added [Bernard] Langer. "You either stick in or put your head in the sand and give up. I don't think that's what he is made of but we will find out."

It's kind of cool to see a dad react that way, instead of seeing his son's poor scoring as a sign of weakness and using the son as an ego extension of himself. Though parents could learn something from this, there's a lesson here for all of us.

Yeah, yeah, I know--put those forged irons away

I can't help myself. Call it Freud's death urge, thanatos; call it masochism; call it foolishness. Whatever you call it doesn't matter. I can't change. I have a set of forged blades. They're not right for me. They're not right for anyone. But they're in my bag. Oh, sure, I tell myself I'm using them as part of an "experiment," to see if they cost me more strokes than my Pings. To see if "forgiveness" in irons is really all it's cracked-up to be. Deep down, though, I know. It's not an experiment. It's lust. A lust for using dense chunks of forged steal to hit dimpled white rocks. A lust to feel the "swing that isn't there"--the perfect, effortless strike. It happens. Once in a while. Not enough to keep the blades in the bag. But they're there. Shrill. Unforgiving. Even pros use blades more forgiving than mine. I don't care. I am driven to use them. I know my golf partners look in my bag and think, "Huh, old blades. What's this guy thinking?" I've even had them tell me--complete strangers, mind you--to ditch them. I don't care. Like a mouse whose brain parasite compels him to throw himself into the jaws of a cat, the blades have got me. I must play with them or... I must play with them. Like a fever, this compelling desire comes and goes, but when it has me, I am its thrall. So if you see me on the courses of Los Angeles, do not mock me, and do not hate me. Pity me. Pity a fool who knows he shouldn't be using blades, but is powerless to stop himself from doing so. As I tee off, mutter a protective blessing under your breath and be thankful that you are not me. I know I would.

We're all amateurs

There was a small brouhaha over at The Golfchick, regarding the play of LPGA players versus PGA players. Specifically, Golfchick was critiquing an article by John Huggan, in which he argues elite woman players don't have as good of short games as their male counterparts because women have been led to believe that success lies in a good long game (which I've argued, ad nauseum, is bass akwards) I think Huggan may have a point in regards to elite players, but in the real world, it's much different. Since I rarely play with anyone scratch or better (in fact, at a 12-handicap, I'm often the best player in my group, which, I don't need to remind you, isn't much of an accomplishment) I can only comment on players in the mid-handicap level. In this handicap range, good short games are a rarity, but when you do run into them, it's as often a woman as a man. Actually, since there are so fewer women playing on Los Angeles's muni courses, you'd probably have to give the edge, in terms of skill as a gender, to women, because for every one woman who can pitch, chip and putt, there are 10 men who can't. As far as I can tell, we amateurs are equally matched, gender notwithstanding, so if you take the few hundred pros out of the equation, the genders are a lot closer in golf than would be obvious.

Finchem/Woods Fedex Cup conspiracy?

Tiger Woods decided to skip The Barclay's, the first of four legs of the Fedex Cup.

"My body is spent and I need a break... This is in no way a knock on Barclays, their new event next week or the new FedEx Cup series, which I fully support... I just hope that this extra week of rest will rejuvenate me for the final three playoff events and Presidents Cup. It is still my goal to win the FedEx Cup and I am hopeful this will give me the best opportunity to finish the year strong." [courtesy of ESPN.com]

To even a casual observer of professional golf, Woods is the prohibitive favorite in every tournament he plays in. As much fun as it is to watch him win, it doesn't usually generate much drama to watch the rest of the field battle for second place. If Woods had jumped out to an early lead in the Fedex Cup, and it became clear after two of its tournaments that he was going to win, you think anyone would tune in to watch it? I don't think the headline, "Woods in commanding lead in Fedex Cup race" is going to turn too many non-golf fans into dedicated PGA watchers. So how do you fix it? Well, you "fix" it: have Woods sit out the first tournament, let a few other pros get close to or overtake his position at the top of the points scale, then reinsert Woods into the mix and see if he can pull out a win. Now that's drama. To wit: which Woods' moment was more memorable, his 12-stroke '97 Master's win, or his battle at the '00 PGA with Bob May?

Of course, this is all pure conjecture, but really, is anyone buying Woods' "I'm too tired" spiel? If Finchem did orchestrate Woods' absence from the Barclays, it would have to go down as the smartest, most courageous strategy ever undertaken in professional golf.

Tiger Woods' survey update

I'm glad to see a few of you have elected to take Woods' putting game as your own, because as Dave Pelz points out in this month's issue of Golf Magazine, putting is el numero uno factor in lowering your handicap. Number one. End of story.

Here's how Pelz broke down shot category importance. On a scale of 1-10, he rated each as follows: Driving, 3; approach shots, 5; short-game shots, 7; putting, 9. He reasons that the closer you get to the hole, the fewer chances you have to make-up for a bad shot. Think about it--the last time you hit a drive into the trees on a par-4, you were probably able to get your recovery shot somewhere near the front of the green. How many times have you hit a better shot from the center of the fairway? If you miss the green (and, statistically speaking, you usually do) you may have hit your approach pin high, but it's not close enough to make your the next pitch or chip shot any easier. In fact, on many muni courses, most of the worst threats to par live right, left, or behind the green--in front is usually the easiest to get up-and-down from. That's why, of all the shots, putting is most important because if you miss a putt, there is no chance to recover, you've cost yourself a stroke. This also explains why it drives you utterly insane when you get paired with a single who's, like, 68 years old, who can't hit it 200 yards off the tee, but gets it up-and-down from everywhere. That old guy knows you'll never beat him as long as you spend most of your time practicing your drives and get-home-in-two three woods, when you should be learning to chip, pitch and putt. The quickest and easiest way to become like Tiger is to practice your putting.

Golf's lack of self-esteem

Golf needs a therapist, someone to tell it that it's okay, it's as good as other sports, and it doesn't need to chastise itself because it doesn't have a post-season.

The therapist could remind golf that it was born in Scotland hundreds of years ago, and has maintained that tradition, thank you very much, down through the centuries. It's been the sport of kings, unlike baseball, basketball, or football. At present, it's a game played recreationally by more people than any other sport. A good therapist would also point out that golf's majors are some of the most beloved sporting events in human history.

The therapist should also tell golf that the behavior of one of its allegedly best friends, Tim Finchem, actually shows him to be no friend at all. Finchem acts like there's something wrong with golf, that there's something that needs to be "fixed."
Finchem whispers into golf's ear that it needs to be more exciting, and get more people to watch it on television.
Golf thinks, "But I have four majors from spring through the end of the summer. That's a lot of exciting, world-class competition. You mean I should give MORE?"
Finchem jingles the change in his pocket.
"Listen golf, it's about more than just your traditions. We have corporate sponsors whose needs have to be considered."
"Don't we have the WGC events," golf counters, "which almost no one knows exists, let alone draws them to their t.v.s?" A forced smile breaks across Finchem's face.
"But the Fedex Cup has a $10 million payout. That's big stuff. That's what the people want." Golf scratches its chin.
"So the winner gets a check for $10 million? Well... when you put it like that, it could be exciting." Finchem's smile dissolves.
"No, not exactly. The $10 million is paid out in an annuity."
"An annuity? Like a retirement fund?"
"Yeah." Golf stops dead in its tracks.
"I suppose that's fun to watch... if you're an accountant." Finchem starts sweating.
"You're not hearing me..."
Golf puts its hand up. "If I'm hearing your correctly, you're saying there's a big winner's purse, but the payout is over many years. And you think this will get people to watch me on t.v.?"
"That's the plan."
"But won't people be disappointed when they think they're going to see a huge check handed to the winner, but instead they..." Finchem interrupts.
"No, no, no. No one is going to be disappointed. Look, I don't have time for this. I'm late for my private Fedex corporate flight." He turns to leave, catches himself and turns back. "I don't where you've gotten this new-found "independence," but I don't like it, and it's not helping. Just let me run the show and everything will be fine." Finchem heads off to a waiting limo.
"My therapist was TOTALLY right about Finchem. I can't believe I'm working with this guy," golf mutters under its breath as it walks out towards the first tee.

Golf and technology--a wonderful combination

Streaming coverage of the PGA Championship is the best! Unlike the Masters, which looked like it was being streamed with a webcam, the PGA's video is as good as regular TV. Plus, there's coverage you can't get on TV--they follow marquee groups for an entire round. Yesterday it was Woods' group, today it's Mickelson's.

In a matter totally unrelated to golf, if you're a frequent web surfer you may be unaware that many companies place cookies on your computer without your knowledge or permission. Some of them are harmless, but cookies placed by advertisers often compromise your privacy by tracking your activities. If you use Firefox, there is a way to block these cookies from being loaded onto your computer. Firstly, if you want to block many scripts (like unwanted animations, audio, etc.) from loading without your permission, use NoScript. I've been using it for the last few days, and it's awesome. Then, if you want to choose which cookies to allow onto your computer, and permanently block the ones your don't, install use CookieSafe, another Firefox add-on. It lists cookies trying to load, and allows you the choice of allowing or permanently blocking it. To see how well it works, before using it, make note of how many cookies are currently installed. Then compare how many you have after using CookieSafe.

Back to golf: I'm amazed that no one in my "Take Wood's game" survey has not chosen to use take his putting skills. I'll let the survey expire before I show you some numbers that will have you, too, amazed that you didn't do it.

PGA Championship--a major in need of a hook

Why are majors majors? Because each one offers a unique challenge. The U.S. Open has its rough; the British Open offers fairways as hard as concrete; the Masters has nutzo greens (and requires the players to stomach its antebellum "charm"); PGA Championship has... the weather? No? Um, could it be that all the golfers are probably really tired by this point in the year? No. It's the final major? No. The Un-Masters? No. Okay then--the PGA Championship needs a "hook," something that gets people watching. And I have the answer: monkeys. The PGA Championship could be the only major to release hungry monkeys during competitive rounds. They shouldn't use big monkeys that could threaten patrons or golfers, but small and cute monkeys that could sow mischief. The spider monkey is a good candidate. He's small enough that his bite wouldn't hurt any more than a pinch, and he's got enough personality to run away with a pro's golf ball and get much-needed cute-assed press out of it. Think of the stories sports writers would get--"Woman feeds monkey, loses earlobe," "Got lice? PGA monkeys can handle it," "It's official--all primates hail Tiger Woods as Monkey God," etc., etc. Those are narratives that grab an audience. Stimp and Bermuda just don't do it. So, PGA guys, if you want to use my idea, I'm all for it. Just do me one favor--hold back the best groomer for me.

Sabbatini and Boy--separated at birth?

Arrogant, quick to overreact, and foul-tempered--that would describe both Rory Sabbatini and Boy, from "Little Monsters." In Rory's defense, he has no desire to turn his competitors into monsters by keeping them under the bed until after sunrise, but then again, he did emigrate from South Africa to Texas and couldn't be more proud to be from the Lone Star state. Eesh.

Chuck Quinton gets it, big time

Below is an excerpt from the website of Chuck Quinton, One-Plane golf instructor extraordinaire. I've never been instructed on the One-Plane swing, so I can't say whether it has any value or not, but I can say that Chuck Quinton's teaching philosophy is at the center of the core of the very essence of good instruction, golf or otherwise.

This is just a taste of what Chuck has at his site, so check it out if you want to understand that you can stop searching for the ideal swing, because there is nothing to search for...

So what is the cure to the slice? What is the "secret" to hitting 300 yard drives? Sadly, because you have read this far, it means that you are still looking for that one secret tip that all good ball strikers know and you don't. You are still looking externally for answers when you had them all along. The cosmic joke of the universe is that the answers to all your questions about life, peace, happiness and a good golf swing have always been right in front of your eyes. The secret is that there is no secret. The second you stop trying to understand the golf swing at an intellectual level is the very moment in your golfing career that you open yourself up to your true golfing potential. The golf swing is much like Zen, it can't be taught, only experienced. If I tried to explain to you with words what Zen or love or happiness are, they would never suffice. There are no exact words to accurately describe how to make a proper golf swing just as there are no words to describe what love is. If you try and explain what love is to a computer it will never understand because love is not logical, but a human who has experienced love can fully comprehend what love is without any words being said. If someone were to try and "teach" a human how to love, it would never work because words cannot replace the experience. In much the same way, NO ONE can explain to you how to swing a golf club and guarantee you will "get it". There are some things that can be put into words just as there are some words that can describe happiness. But to truly understand happiness you must first experience it. So, how can anyone ever expect to learn the golf swing?

A good golf instructor is one who understands that the technical aspects of the golf swing are never the sole focus of learning, no more than a Buddhist monk would be expected to attain enlightenment by learning the details of "how to" meditate. A Zen master would act as a guide to the monk, passing along wisdom and experience, not just "technical" details. But first, the Zen master must experience enlightenment for himself, how else could he guide someone down a path that clearly cannot be explained with words alone? How can someone learn to love from someone who has never loved? In much the same way, taking lessons from a golf instructor who can't strike the ball like a master and focuses only on the technical details guarantees you one thing - that you are missing half the picture.

Rankmark good for only one golfer--the guy who owns Rankmark

When I first started paying attention to all-things-golf, I stumbled upon a website called Rankmark. It's a site where clubs are "tested" for usability by golfers of differing handicaps. The site was created by Charlie Mandel, and the concept of the site was simple: have three groups of golfers from three handicap ranges (0-9, 10-20, 21+) test clubs. Then publish which clubs are best for which handicap ranges. I was sold on the site's credibility because clubs from major manufacturers as well as smaller component club companies were tested, which meant that Charlie's integrity hadn't been bought by big club companies. True, the majors' clubs usually garnered the highest ratings, but that's not controversial--they make good clubs. But then something odd began happening. Instead of rating the clubs, as he always had, in first, second and third place, Charlie started having ratings where every club tested tied for either first, second, or third place. There were no losers. It gets worse. At present, Charlie's testing involves head-to-head "match play," where clubs are paired-off and evaluated against each other, and after several rounds, a winner declared. As dubious as his testing methodology was way back when he started, his testing now is nothing more than pure entertainment. This truth is borne out by the fact that on his site's home page, he has a link (for prospective advertisers, no doubt), of site-traffic. I've got no beef with a guy who has an interest in golf and wants to make a web buck off that interest, but for Charlie to claim he's giving golfers empirical data to base a club purchase on is highly dubious.

In the end, the only golf "test" that really matters is you, the golfer, swinging the club yourself. Neither a "Hotlist" nor Rankmark can substitute for that.

There is no "clumsy" in golf?

After hearing the Golf Channel commentators declare that an LPGA player had just hit a "clumsy" shot to, possibly, eliminate herself from a win, I thought: "Does golf, being the wicked bitch she is, really allow for clumsy shots?"

To be honest, we all hit "crappy" shots. Even more, those shots are expected--a 64 by some red-hot pro involves a double bogey somewhere. "Clumsy", even stupid, shots, happen all the time, even on a good round. Obviously golf is a game that derives a lot of its results from luck--otherwise, duffers would be making millions on the Tour. So, being that golf is a game that seems to derive its basis in the subconscious, and that we, the golfers, have the goal of hitting every shot dead perfect, can you really say that we're "sloppy"? I posit that we, the golfing masses, do not have an extraordinary amount of conscious control over our swings, and that the designation of "clumsy" is, in itself, clumsy. Of course, the offending commentators were Australian, and as it's been proven time and again that the best commentators come from the U.S.A. It's no surprise that Aussies provided the gaffe. And, no, I don't believe Aussies are inherently "anything," but they do have considerably less experience in big-time commentating. Give them a few more years, and "clumsy" might fall from the lexicon.

Sergio Gacia, "I just have to get better."

That was Garcia's response when asked what he needs to do to win a major. It's a reasonable answer, but totally evasive. For example, the rest of us, in order to shoot better scores, can and should get better--there's plenty of room for improvement when you're scores are above 80. However, when you're at Garcia's level of play, there isn't any technique you can improve to save strokes--he can hit a 2-iron 250 yards off the fairway, for Pete's sake. No, at his level, it's all about psychology.

So, let's ask Mr. Garcia the question again. "Mr. Garcia, why didn't you win the British Open?"

Mr. Garcia, "Well, that's complicated. You see, I'm young, and I've never really thought of myself as an equal to other players. Sure, I shoot the same scores, but deep down--and this is hard for me to admit--I feel like a little kid out there with the men. So at the crucial moment, I hit a bad shot."

OR

"You've seen the outfits I where, right? Colorful, tight-fitting, gregarious. You see, I think I wear that stuff because I have to feel special, and if I don't win a major, I'm the least special of all. That added pressure--that I'm playing not only to win a tournament, but to define myself as a human being--is too much. I think I sold myself a bill of goods, and I think by losing, I'm rebelling against my own incorrect assumptions of identity."

Of course, a player doesn't have to admit that kind of stuff to the press, but he does have to admit it to himself (and probably a shrink) in order to get what he's after, i.e., a major championship.

So if any of us continually fail at something we're trying to succeed at, you have to ask the question, "Why am I really failing?"

It's the short game, stupid!

Dave Pelz has said it over and over and over: it doesn't matter how well you hit full shots. Statistical analysis shows that even the best players in the world don't hit it close enough to make birdie a significant number of times. Scoring in golf all comes down to pitching, chipping and putting--especially if you want to break 80.

For those with handicaps near bogey and below, do yourself a favor: keep track of your strokes from within 30 yards over the next five times out on the course (and if you want to help me, please post your results here in comments.) What you'll learn is that most of your horrendous scores are mainly attributable to horrible short game shots. Sure, you may have a hole where you hit into an absolutely un-savable spot, but you'll see that, on the whole, it's the straight-forward short shots that give you the most trouble.

The best way to improve is to practice, and the best way to practice, that I've seen, is laid out in Dave Pelz's Short Game Bible. Though Dave assumes everyone has enough to time to practice to achieve robotic repeatability, there are many, many good short game ideas in his book.

Ballesteros retires from golf

Though Seve looks a little depressed, in an odd way, it's refreshing to watch a man leave something he loves because it's time to go. We don't see this often because American society is pathologically cheery. Watch any golf broadcast (except for Johnny Miller, of course) and you'll see that when a player is playing badly, there's usually nothing more than silence from the commentators. Which is really silly, since we golfers have a lot more in common over our copious numbers of bad shots than our small number of good ones. Even when the towers fell on 9/11, we didn't have a national day of mourning, we had Bush getting fired up and promising to catch the evil-doers. We had heroic memorials for those killed, and very few moments when we just plain mourned. If Seve is bummed about leaving golf, maybe he's beginning to learn, painfully, that he's about more than golf, and he's got way more options before him than he ever imagined.

Death to the mock!

Why is Tiger Woods afraid of collars? Why does he encourage a clothing style best left back in the 1960s, where is was invented? The mock was born in space, and there it should die.

I guess this comes down to a matter purely of taste--if one is in terrific physical shape, and is proud of one's body, then I suppose one has the prerogative to wear clothing to accent that physique. But isn't the following picture a little... obvious?


Sure, he's in great shape, but do you have to hit us over the head with your body? Tiger does not have to worry--we get it: you work out. Now go get a collared Sunday-red shirt for pity's sake.

The Neurotic Golfer

Golf is a game our primate forebearers would have been only too happy to play. It has everything the tense primate could want--twitchy routines, long, stress-reducing walks, and the privacy to mumble to oneself at will. It's got lots of paraphernalia--tees, coins, lip balm, towels, and, of course, a bag full of clubs, which the discerning monkey can use to distract himself from whatever woes await him just outside the confines of the urban savanna. You see all kinds of people playing golf, from guys who think that with just a little more practice they could go pro, to players who not only don't know there are professional golfers, but don't have the foggiest notion how to hit a ball.

Which leads me to wonder if golf is good. Golf may be good for local economies and golf manufacturers, but are people better for having played golf? To hear Deepak Chopra tell it, the pursuit of golf is a mystical experience where a man has the opportunity to meet his "higher self." Sure. From my vantage point, with rare exception, golf is a game where most players hope to further entrench themselves in the notion that they are King and can do anything. Perhaps many golfers come to this errant conclusion because they are "somebodies" out in the non-golf world, COOs and the like, and assume that that supremacy should naturally translate to golf. Having watched countless playing partners flail at the ball, I can assure them that it doesn't. But even if they somehow managed to become a decent golfer (and there are plenty of Kings who are also good players) does that necessarily mean anything substantial about them as people? If Warren Buffet is also a +3 handicap, does that make him a better person? If Mother Theresa had been scratch, would the Catholic Church be rushing her to sainthood any faster? My guess is no and no. Of course, I'd be a complete liar if I said I didn't admit to feeling the prickly fingers of self-judgment creep up my neck as I hit a bad shot. We all want to be able to hold our heads high and say, "I can play better than most." Obviously it takes discipline to be a good player, and I don't want to belittle anyone's technical achievements, least of all my own. But discipline can bring skill to any activity and those activities aren't always good--just ask Charles Manson. No, any gratification you derive from pride-of-supremacy is foolish, and ultimately, damaging because if you fall into the trap of thinking because you're good at something you yourself are "good," then you have missed the forest for the trees. Maybe the USGA should distribute signs to courses across the country that read: "You are not golf, and golf is not you. Relax, keep up the pace, and have fun."

But if I don't hit a good tee shot off #1, all bets are off.

Repeated bad golf advice does not help

Here's the latest "tip" from Golf.com:

Tip of the Day: Bounce Out of Bunkers

The trick to sticking bunker shots is to use what's built into your sand wedge

I'm not going to get into the nitty-gritty of the tip; suffice to say it tells you your "bounce" will save you from bunkers. I've seen that tip printed countless times over the years. No doubt, the flange on a sand wedge will do you some good when hitting out of a bunker provided you use the proper technique. Let's face it: a bunker shot, despite what Dave Pelz and the above dude with the outrageous comb-over tells us, is not easy. It takes practice. It takes technique. It even takes a little faith. What it does not require is the repetition, ad nauseam, of the mantra, "use the bounce, use the bounce." Plainly said, it just pisses me off when Golf Magazine, Golf Digest, or Golf Illustrated continually print tips that are worthless. What those mags do well is travel writing, Feherty musings, and golf theory, i.e., One Plane or Stack-n-Tilt, where the writer can get in-depth into the thinking of the teacher. "Use your bounce" or "The right hand for more power" do not rate highly enough to be read. So the next time you're flipping through a golf magazine, and your eyes graze over the words "trick" or "secret," keep flipping, because if you read those articles, all you're going to do is give yourself angry indigestion.

Do you suffer from putting "blindness"?

After badly missing a putt, do you ever find yourself asking, "How could I have missed that?"

If you find you're missing putts from all over, even the short ones, you may be suffering from putting blindness. Symptoms include: leaving 20 foot putts 10 feet short; hitting 20 foot putts 10 feet past; missing everything on the low side; smashing 4 footers through the break leaving 6 foot come-backers; four-putting from 50 feet; silently wishing you'd never been born.

Most golfers use the standard putting grip:

The problem with using this grip is that it mimics the grip of the full swing, and for most players, the full swing is not a thing of deft touch or precise sensation. I have no idea how the subconscious works or what it actually is, but I do know it is something of a simple fool, and if it sees you using a full-swing grip on a putt, chances are your hands will go blind.


(Image courtesy of getintogolf.org)

Here are some other putter grip styles that have come into vogue in the last several years and are helpful at restoring putting sight. They are:


Above: left-hand-low, where you place your left hand below your right. The purported advantage is two-fold: a) it's easier to keep your wrists straight, and b) your shoulders are level.

Then there are the claw grip (and its derivations):



(Images courtesy of dlancgolf.com; polekatgolf.com; pgaprofessional.com.)

I like to call these grips (from left to right): The Dandy, the Bludgeon, and the Glad Hand. They work because they make your brain respond to a putt in a non-full-swing manner--your subconscious thinks, "Hey, this isn't golf. It's... uh... heck, I'm not sure. Let's just hit the dang ball." And PLOP!, you start making puts.

Here's a putting grip that requires its own grip to be installed on your putter:

(wishbonegolf.com)

The creator of this putting system claims it helps with the "yips," a mythical putting ailment that has its basis in neurology.

Lastly, if you're really having a hard time, and mere putting grip changes won't cure your ills, there is the last resort of using a longer putter.

These long putters can be expensive, but if they work for you...?

Remember, 43% of your shots are putts, and they can well determine whether you're going to play to your potential, which is, as we all know and tell ourselves every time we shoot over 90, par--or better.