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From The Hearth
Instruction writing can have a destabilizing effect on the stewards of the nation's golf magazines. Perhaps this Damoclesean burden, the prospect of co-writing one "Slice Stopper Primer" after another, is responsible for scribes seizing the reins and trying their hands at things like course architecture, club design or even pulling off solo instructional 'how tos.'
It is treacherous if increasingly familiar ground. The reader needn't be alarmed, however, with Jim Frank's thoughts on putting. He has nothing but empathy for the reader. The advice is forthright without being snobby, the instruction easy to decipher. During an early morning conversation, the author turned out to be no less considerate. Later I learned he'd completely forgotten my interview and had been hastily awakened from bed, with a cold, only moments before going on the air. To his credit, the interview went off seamlessly.
If driving is said to be an art (though perhaps less and less), and iron play a science, putting remains conclusively an inspiration. Childishly simple, it is cruelly vexing, heartlessly so to the virtuosos who come closest to reaching the Grail of perfection.
Ben Hogan, picked by no less than Bobby Locke as the putting component for "my ideal golfer," became so paralyzed by the yips that he only played greenies, then stopped putting altogether; he'd just hit onto the green, collect his ball and move on. In Austin, there are those who will tell you that no one ever putted better than the teenaged Ben Crenshaw. Looking back, Johnny Miller has said as much about himself.
Then there was Bill Melhorn. Both Hogan and Tommy Armour believed 'Wild' Bill to be the best ever from tee to green. His putting, however, could be wondrously awful. In a partnered event, near the hole in two, with his partner's ball lying just off the green, Bill told him to pick up. He then jabbed at his putt so badly that those standing on the fringe had to jump to get out of the way. He played his fourth from a bunker.
But enough about putting woes; we all have them. In this paperback putting Physician's Desk Reference, the longtime Golf magazine editor clinically details various symptoms. Simple and proven treatments of a country doctor practicality follow. Old-fashioned effort is all that is required.
The author admits a lack of originality. What has changed, really, since Willie Park Jr. recognized that "The man who can putt is a match for anyone?"
Suppose one's distance control is erratic. "You're not hitting your first putts close enough to assure tap-ins." (Lot of that going around.) He prescribes, as he does for other afflictions, a strategy, a concept and a drill. In this case, our strategy is to "…hit a specific target surrounding the hole," our concept: control is crucial to scoring. Our drill:
- Place two 2' lengths of clothesline on the practice green parallel to each other about a foot apart.
- Putt several balls to the rope, starting from a distance of a few feet and backing up.
- Putt the balls so they finish inside the ropes, or at least not short of the first strand.
- Repeat as needed.
Profiles of those famed masters who need no introduction spice up the fine print. Many of the drills, it's worth noting, can be done in the privacy of an office or hallway, or practiced without tying up a hole.
Five steps from the cup the game's best practitioners only make about half their putts. And that's on the best rolled carpets Man, Mother Nature and Stimp meter can fashion, not the lumpy Velcro most of us play. With that in mind, we'll likely have a cure for the cold before the genetics of putting have been isolated. Still there are strategies, concepts and drills. Those seeking spiritual salvation, infomercial sizzle or the quick fix will be disappointed by Frank's Rx. The diligent, however, will find this over the counter medicine a bargain.
Rating: Cat-Stroker * * *
Duly Noted - Edition I
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