The Dub
When Frederick was a little lad
He practised the pianner,
And practised it, we need not add,
In ladhood’s usual manner.
His progress was more slow than snail’s,
Of skill came no increase;
But Frederick would not practise scales—
He wished to “play a piece.”
At golf Fred cannot use his hands,
He has no sense of rhythm;
And yet he thinks he understands—
You cannot argue with’m.
Dub will remain his middle name
Till death shall him release.
He doesn’t care to learn the game—
He wants to “play a piece.”
When the Preacher observed that there was no new thing under the sun, he articulated a mouthful, as a contemporary slangily remarked of Demosthenes. A Denver man relates in the Golfer’s Magazine that he keeps his eye off the ball, instead of on it, from the drive to the putt. Unlike the feat which we recently noticed on an oratorio programme, “Rest in the Ford,” this can be done. Several years ago we demonstrated to our own content that it was possible to use a mashie accurately while scrutinizing the flag, and during one season we putted while glaring at the hole; but in the longer shots we preferred more freedom of the neck—ours not being of the giraffe type—and so maintained an “eyes front” attitude. About that time Mr. Charles Clarke, professional to the Rothersham Club at York, published his “Common Sense Golf,” which contained this admonition:
“And most important of all, for putts of six feet and under, look at the hole and not at the ball. I know it is a very unorthodox thing to say, and it will require no little courage at first to get used to the method. But the difficulty exists only in the imagination; the lie of your ball is as nearly as possible perfect, and all the preliminary adjustments have been made. A back-swing of a few inches, and a short, firm tap is all that is required. Personally I have improved my holing out enormously since adopting this method, and there are days when I can scarcely miss a two-yard putt.”
Our hypothesis, which we arrived at independently of the Rothersham pro (as Adams located the planet Neptune “unbeknownst” to Leverrier) was challenged by Grantland Rice and Jerome Travers; and so we arranged a test with Mr. Rice. But a heavy shower interposed, and we agreed to try the thing on a new dog—Mr. Ring Lardner, who up to that time had not trifled with a golfing implement. He was required to putt eighteen holes while looking at the hole, and to repeat while looking at the ball. The result was slightly in favor of the latter method, but this was fairly attributable to increased familiarity with the putter. Personally (sic), we can putt as well one way as the other, and all that we ever maintained for the eye-on-hole style was that it would improve the work of one who putted badly. If a man putts well by any method, let him keep the even tenor of his way, nor heed the rumble of a distant drum.
Golf is advised for training camps by the War department, to counteract the tension of intensive training. The beneficial effect lies in the mental rest during the swing; from the moment the ball is addressed until it is struck the mind is an absolute blank. The poorer the player, the more strokes he takes, and the greater the mental rest.