The difference between a putter and a mashie is that the face of one
is straight and the face of the other is laid back. For short pitches
you take the mashie back in the same way that you move the putter, and
with a mere turn of the wrist you “chip” the ball toward the hole. It
is assumed that tall grass or rough turf lies between, for no sensible
person will run up over smooth turf with a mashie when he can use a
midiron or cleek—unless he has deluded himself for years with the
notion that the difference between one club and another is more than a
difference of weight and loft. The over-use of the mashie is generally
due to cowardice; the lofted face promises to get the ball up, and it
frequently does.
This timidity is due to the moss-grown tradition that it is essential to
“keep your eye on the ball.” Now when a man can repeatedly top a ball
that he is looking steadily at, it ought eventually to dawn on him, as it
dawned on me, that looking at the ball is one of the causes of topping.
I don’t recall ever having topped a croquet ball, or ever having given a
thought to the swing of the mallet. Having taken aim, one looks at the
wicket and strikes the ball; that’s all there is to it. So in golf. When
you want distance you look at the ball, because you are going to “soak”
it; but when direction or delicacy of stroke are wanted, you look at the
hole, or at that spot on the green where you design to drop the ball.
You stand very “open,” with your right foot well advanced and your right
elbow anchored to your hip; you let the club swing on the hinge of your
wrists—straight back and straight forward—and when you reach the ball you
flick it sharply or gently, as the distance may require. A child that
never pitched ball can do this. A man who has devoted years to glaring at
the ball will have some difficulty at first, because perfect relaxation
is possible only when your attention is on the flag.