The Soul of Golf

[Dark Saint Alaick]

It seems to me that there is possibly a clue to the remarkable
statements which we get in this book in the following quotation, which
I take from the chapter on "Attention":

When I first rode a bicycle, if four or five obstacles
suddenly presented themselves, these to the right, those to
the left, I found I could not transfer my attention from one
to the other sufficiently quickly to give the muscles the
requisite orders--and I came a cropper ... and so with the
golf stroke.

It seems to me that here we have the key of the author's difficulty.
His mind was fixed on the obstacles--some to the right and some to the
left. In similar circumstances most budding cyclists, and I have
taught many, confine their attention to the clear path right ahead,
and consequently the obstacles "these to the right, those to the left"
do not trouble them. This, psychologically speaking, is a curious
confession of the power of outside influences to affect the main
issue. It seems to me that right through the consideration of this
subject the author, like many other golfers, has been devoting his
mind far too much to the things which he imagines about golf, instead
of to the things which are, and they are the things which matter. No
wonder, then, that he has "come a cropper."

[Dark Saint Alaick]

There is a chapter called "The One Thing Necessary," which starts as
follows: "But, since I stated that my own belief is that only one
thing can be 'attended' to at a time, you will probably be inclined to
ask me what is the most important thing? what precisely ought we to
attend to at the moment of impact of club with ball? Well, if you ask
me, I say _the image of the ball_." This is really an astonishing
statement. "At the moment of impact of club with ball" the image of
the ball does not really matter in the slightest degree. As I shall
show later on, the eye has fulfilled its functions long before the
impact takes place. Also, of course, to the non-analytical mind it
will be perfectly obvious that _the image of the ball_ could be just
as well preserved if the golfer had lifted his head three to six
inches, but his stroke would have been irretrievably ruined.

Now, as a matter of fact, by the time the club has arrived at the ball
it is altogether too late to attend to anything. All the attention has
already been devoted to the stroke, and it has been made or marred. As
we have clearly seen from what James Braid says about the stroke the
moment of impact is the time when the attention and the tension is
released, so it will obviously be of no service to us to endeavour
forcibly to impress upon our minds in any way the image of the ball.
If there is any one thing to think of at the moment of impact, the
outstanding point of importance must be that the eyes should be in
exactly the same place and position as they were at the moment of
address.

[Dark Saint Alaick]

Here is a most remarkable sentence:--

It is a pity that so many literary elucidators and
explicators of the game devote so many pages to the
subsidiary circumstances.... I wonder if they would pardon
me if I said that, as a matter of simple fact, if one
_attended to the game_ (with all that that means), almost one
could stand and strike as one chose, and almost with any kind
of club.

There is a large amount of truth in this; but it comes most peculiarly
from the author of this book, for of all the literary obfuscators whom
I have ever come across I have never met his equal in attention to the
"subsidiary circumstances" and neglect of the real game. Much time is
wasted in an analysis of the nature of attention. Now, attention,
psychologically, is somewhat difficult to define from the golfing
point of view, but as a matter of simple and practical golf there is
no difficulty whatever in explaining it. Attention in golf is merely
habit acquired by practice and by starting golf in a proper and
scientific manner. I shall have to deal with that more fully in my
next chapter, so I shall not go into the matter here. Suffice it to
say that lifting the eye at golf is no more a lack of attention than
is lifting the little finger in the club-house. It is merely a vice in
each case--a bad habit, born probably of the fact that in neither case
did the man learn the rudiments of the game thoroughly.

We are told that "the arms do not judge distance (save when we are
actually touching something), nor does the body, nor does the head.
The judging is done by the eyes"; but we must not forget that the arms
accurately measure the distance.

[Dark Saint Alaick]

The fact is that there is more individuality in putting than
in any other department of golf, and it is absolutely
imperative that this individuality should be allowed to have
its way.

And now comes a very wonderful statement:

I believe seriously that every man has had a particular kind
of putting method awarded to him by Nature, and when he putts
exactly in this way he will do well, and when he departs from
his natural system he will miss the long ones and the short
ones too. First of all, he has to find out this particular
method which Nature has assigned for his use.

Again on page 144 we read that when a player is off his putting

... it is all because he is just that inch or two removed
from the stance which Nature allotted to him for putting
purposes, but he does not know that, and consequently
everything in the world except the true cause is blamed for
the extraordinary things he does.

[Dark Saint Alaick]

Let us now repeat what James Braid has to say on the important matter
of putting. On page 119 of _How to Play Golf_ he says:

It happens, unfortunately, that concerning one department of
the game that will cause the golfer some anxiety from time to
time, and often more when he is experienced than when he is
not, neither I nor any other player can offer any words of
instruction such as, if closely acted upon, would give the
same successful results as the advice tendered under other
heads ought to do. This is in regard to putting.

Further on we are informed that "really great putters are probably
born and not made."

So far we must admit that this is extremely discouraging, but there is
worse to follow.

Let us now see what Taylor has to say about putting. At page 83 in his
book, _Taylor on Golf_, and in the chapter, "Hints on Learning the
Game," he says:

Coming back to the subject of actual instruction. After a
fair amount of proficiency has been acquired in the use of
the cleek, iron, and mashie, we have the difficulty of the
putting to surmount. And here I may say at once it is an
absolute impossibility to teach a man how to putt.

[Dark Saint Alaick]

Even many of the leading professionals are weak in this
department of the game. Do you think they would not improve
themselves in this particular stroke were such a thing within
the range of possibility? Certainly they would. The fact is
that in putting, more than in aught else, a very special
aptitude is necessary. A good eye and a faculty for gauging
distances correctly is a great help, indeed, quite a
necessity, as also is judgment with regard to the requisite
power to put behind the ball. Unfortunately, these are things
that cannot be taught, they must come naturally, or not at
all.

All that is possible for the instructor to do is to discover
what kind of a putting style his pupil is possessed of,
offer him useful hints, and his ultimate measure of success
is then solely in his own hands.

It is easy to tell a pupil how he must needs hold his clubs
in driving or playing an iron shot, but in putting there is
hardly such a necessity. The diversity of styles accounts for
this, and in this particular kind of stroke a man must be
content to rely upon his own adaptability alone.

[Dark Saint Alaick]

Now in the same book on page 240, in the chapter on "The Art of
Putting," we read:

The drive may be taught, the pupil may be instructed in the
use of the cleek, the iron, or the brassie, but in putting he
must rely upon his own powers of reducing the game to an
actual science. The other strokes are of a more or less
mechanical character; they may be explained and demonstrated,
but with the ball but a few feet distant from the hole there
are many other things to be considered, and hints are the
only things that can be offered. The pupil may be advised
over the holding and grip of the putter, but as far as the
success of the shot is concerned it remains in his own hands.

In passing, I may remark that it seems to me that in this latter
respect the put is not vastly different from any other stroke in golf,
or indeed, for the matter of that, in any other game.

Continuing, Taylor says:

Putting, in short, is so different to any other branch of the
game that the good putter may be said to be born, not made.

That this is really the case is proved by the fact that many
of the leading players of the day, professionals and amateurs
alike, are very frequently weaker when playing with the
putter than when performing with any other of their clubs.
Speaking solely of professionals, is it at all probable that
this would be so were they capable of improving themselves in
this particular department? Certainly not.

[Dark Saint Alaick]

Now it will be admitted that this is a very gloomy outlook for him who
desires to learn how to put. He is thrown entirely on his own
resources. I must quote Taylor once again with regard to putting. He
says:

And yet it is none the less true that to putt perfectly
should be the acme of one's ambition. Putting is the most
important factor of success, for it happens very frequently
that a man may meet a stronger driver, or a better performer
with the iron clubs, and yet wrest the leadership from him
when near the hole.

There can be no doubt whatever of the truth of what Taylor says in
this last paragraph--"Putting is the most important factor of
success"; yet we are confronted with the amazing statement made by the
three greatest masters of the game, men who between them have
accounted for fourteen open championships, men whose living depends
upon playing golf and teaching it, that "the most important factor of
success" cannot be taught. There is no possible doubt about their
ideas on this subject. They deliberately tell the unfortunate golfer,
or would-be golfer, that good putters are born and not made, that
putting cannot be taught, and that each person must be left to work
out his own salvation.

[Dark Saint Alaick]

It is admitted that putting is practically half the game. It has been
well illustrated in the following way:--Seventy-two strokes is a good
score for almost any course. The man who gets down in two every time
is not a bad putter. This allows him thirty-six strokes on the green,
which is exactly one-half of his score. Now what does this statement
which is made by Braid, Vardon, and Taylor amount to? It is an
assertion by them that they are unable to teach half of the game of
golf, and _that_ the most important half, for, as we have seen, Taylor
says that it is "the most important factor of success." Now surely
there is something wrong here. As a matter of fact it is the most
absolute nonsense which it is possible to imagine. Putters are not
born. They are made and shaped and polished to just as great an extent
as any metal putter that ever was forged. Putting is the simplest and
easiest thing in golf to learn and to teach, and it is positively
wrong for men of the eminence in their profession which these players
enjoy to append their names to statements which cannot but have a
deleterious effect on the game generally, and particularly on the play
of those who are affected by reading such absolutely false doctrine.

There are certain fundamental principles in connection with putting
which cannot be disregarded. It is quite wrong to say that the first
thing to consider is some particular idiosyncrasy which a man may have
picked up by chance. The idea of Nature having troubled herself to
allot any particular man or men, or, for the matter of that, women or
children, any particular styles for putting is too ridiculous to
require any comment. Needless to say, very many people have
peculiarities which they exhibit in putting, as well as in other
matters, but in many cases it is the duty of the capable instructor
not to attempt to add the scientific principles of putting to a
totally wrong and ugly foundation. The first duty of one who knows the
game and how to teach it is to implant in the mind of his pupil the
correct mechanical methods of obtaining the result desired. If, after
he has done this, it be found that his natural bent or idiosyncrasy
fits in with the proper mechanical production of the stroke, there is
no harm in allowing him to retain his natural style; but if, for the
sake of argument, it should be found that his natural method is
unsuitable for the true production of the stroke, there is only one
thing to do, which is to cut out his natural method, and make him put
on the lines most generally adopted.

[Dark Saint Alaick]

However, when dealing with names like these, it is worth while to
reinforce oneself. Let us see what James Braid has to say about the
matter in _Advanced Golf_. At page 144, chapter x., dealing with
"Putting Strokes," Braid says: "Thus practically any man has it in his
power to become a reasonably good putter, and to effect a considerable
improvement in his game as the result." Here is the message of hope to
the putter. It will be remembered that Taylor states that the good
putter may be said to be born, not made, and that Braid practically
said the same thing. This, of course, is nonsense, and if any
refutation were necessary, James Braid himself is the refutation. The
first time I saw Braid putting, he was trying a Vaile putter for me
at Walton-on-Heath. He came down on the ball before he had come to the
bottom of his swing, and finished on the green quite two inches in
front of the spot where the ball had been. Before I had reflected in
the slightest degree, I came out quite naturally with the question,
"Do you always put like that?" "Yes," said Braid in his slow, quiet
way, "and it is the best way." By this time I had remembered who Braid
was, and I did not pursue the subject any further, but I thought a
good deal. I thought that Braid would, in due course, find out that it
was not the best way, and I fully understood why he was such a bad
putter.