First Aid to the Golf Dub
A prominent dub said to us one day: “I’ve taken a good many lessons, and every line of instruction I’ve received sounds perfectly foolish.”
Obviously, the instruction is at fault, for, next to rolling off a log, there is nothing easier than driving a ball with, say, a midiron.
Take a box of balls and an iron, and station yourself a short distance from a putting green. Lay the club on the ground; you won’t need it for ten minutes or so. Now, with your right hand pitch the balls, one by one, at the flag just as you would pitch an indoor baseball, or throw a bowling ball down an alley—underhand. The only difference between this motion and the golf stroke is that in the bowling “address” you face the pins, whereas in golf your left side is toward the pin. Hence the turn of the body.
After you have chucked the dozen balls, you will discover, if you are not utterly imbecile, two or three things: you can’t chuck the ball underhand when your right hand is shoulder high; the arm must come down first; your body has come part way round and your left hip has gone forward; and, of chief importance, the knuckles of your hand are underneath when the ball is dispatched.
Precisely the same motions are gone through with when you use the midiron. If, after half an hour’s practice, with or without the club, you can’t acquire the knack, you had better quit. You are hopeless.
We have a few remarks to make about the iron shots.
The two things sought for are distance and direction. Concerning the first we have nothing at present to offer; our conclusions have not yet jelled.
Direction is a simpler matter. Accuracy in approaching and good direction in longer shots may be acquired by the simple expedient of relaxing the grip of the right hand after the ball is struck—relaxing it, not slightly, but completely; the fingers barely retaining a hold on the club. Most duffers pull or drag all their iron shots away to the left of the flag; letting go with the right hand will remedy this. The left hand, the grip of which is constant throughout the stroke, goes merrily on its way, uncrumpled, unhampered and unchecked.
One can, at will, pull or slice a golf ball around a bunker or other obstruction, and we should think it possible to rifle a cannon in such a way that a round shell could be shot around a corner.
State convicts are to be employed on the public roads of Illinois. This will be good for the roads, and as good as golf for the convicts, as the work will “take them out in the open air.” And it is a more pleasant sight to watch a man mending a road than to watch a dub golfer ruining the turf of a fairgreen.
Cannery! Special delivery! “Playing superlative golf.”
The star player of Greenwich Golf Club is Mr. Topping, who may be related to F. Dub, whose name we saw once in an account of a golf match.
When, on a Saturday you have bought a golf club or tennis racket in a department store, has it occurred to you that the clerk who sold you the things would like to be setting forth that afternoon, like yourself, for a turn on the links, or in the park? It has? Then you are more thoughtful than some people.