PUTTING
The great mystery to me, not about golf, but about the work of the
greatest golfers, is the attitude which they all adopt with regard to
putting. Now, putting may quite properly be said to be the foundation
of golf. It really is the first thing which should be taught, but, as
a matter of fact, it is generally left until the last. Practically all
instructors start the player with the drive. It is beyond question
that the drive is the most complex stroke in golf, and it is equally
beyond question that the put is the simplest. There can be no shadow
of doubt whatever that the only scientific method of instructing a
person in the art of playing golf is one which is diametrically
opposed to that adopted by practically all the leading players of the
world. Instead of starting the beginner at the tee and taking him
through his clubs in rotation to the putting-green, the proper order
for sound tuition would be to start him six inches from the hole and
to back him through his clubs to the tee.
This is so absolutely beyond argument that I need not labour the point
here, except in so far as with it is bound up the important question
of attention--that is, of riveting one's eye and one's mind on the
ball for the whole period employed in making the stroke. As I said in
the preceding chapter, attention is habit. Attention includes the
habit of keeping the eye on the ball and the head still until the
stroke has been played. The best way of inculcating the vices of
lifting the head and the eye during the stroke is to teach the player
the drive first. It stands to reason that if a player is started, say,
with a six-inch put, that he has at the moment of making his stroke
both the ball and the hole well within the focus of his eyes, so that
it is absolutely unnecessary for him to lift his eye in order to
follow the ball. It therefore follows that he is not tempted to lift
his eye.
Now, no player should be allowed to go more than two or three feet
from the hole until he has learned to hole out puts at that distance
with accuracy and confidence. By the time he is allowed to leave the
putting-green, he will have acquired the habit of attention.
It will be clearly seen that, starting now from the edge of the green
with his chip shot, he is much more certain of striking the ball and
getting it away than he would be were he put on to the more uncertain
stroke in the drive; so by a gradual process of education the player
would come in time to the drive, and by the time he arrives at the
most complicated stroke in the game--the stroke wherein is the
smallest margin of error--he has cultivated the habit of attention,
which includes keeping one's head still.
Of course, this is a counsel of perfection which one does not expect
to find carried out, although a similar course is followed by all good
teachers in every trade, profession, science, or game, but as I have
said before, in golf there is a tremendous amount of false teaching
which is generally followed. It is, however, a certainty that any
beginner who has the patience, perseverance, and moral courage to
educate himself on these lines, will find golf much easier to play
than it would be if he had started, as nearly everybody wants to
start, with "the swing." It is bad enough that putting should be
relegated to the position it is, but the attitude of the great
writers, or perhaps I should say the great golfers who have written
books about golf, aggravates the offence, and forms what is to me the
greatest mystery in connection with golf literature.
I shall give here what Braid, Vardon, and Taylor have to say about
putting. Let me take Vardon first. At page 143 of _The Complete
Golfer_ he says:
For the proper playing of the other strokes in golf, I have
told my readers to the best of my ability how they should
stand and where they should put their feet. But except for
the playing of particular strokes, which come within the
category of those called "fancy," I have no similar
instruction to offer in the matter of putting. There is no
rule and there is no best way.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Nor is this difficult to do, for it stands to reason that anyone who
is a beginner at golf has not already cultivated a style of his own.
The statements of these three great golfers are absolutely without
foundation--in fact, they are indeed so far from the truth that I have
no hesitation whatever in saying that in at least ninety per cent of
the cases which come before a professional for tuition, if the subject
is properly dealt with by an intelligent teacher, putting is, without
any shadow of doubt, the easiest portion of golf to teach and to
learn. In the face of the mischievous statements which have been so
widely circulated in connection with the difficulty of learning the
art of putting, one cannot possibly be too emphatic in stating the
truth. In doing this, let it be understood that I am not stating any
theory or publishing any idea which I am not prepared fully to
demonstrate by practical teaching. It is a curious thing, but one to
which I do not wholly object, that those who read my books seem to
consider that they have a personal claim on my services as well, and
it is no uncommon thing for me to receive visits from men who are in
trouble about their putting, their drive, or their approach, and I
have not, as a rule, any very great trouble in locating the seat of
the difficulty.
The pernicious influence of such teaching as that which I have just
quoted repeatedly comes before me. I know men who seem to consider
that the chief art of putting in golf is bound up in another art,
namely, the art of the contortionist, whereas, of course, nothing
could be further from the truth. Putting, as I shall show later on, is
an extremely simple operation. In fact its simplicity is so pronounced
that little children, almost without instruction, do it remarkably
well, because they do it naturally. It is only when people come to the
game possibly rather late in life, and perhaps with habits acquired
from other games, and in addition to this are told that they must
evolve their own particular style, that we find the difficulty, for
the style which is evolved is, in the vast majority of cases, no style
at all, and the stroke is played unnaturally.
That is what I have to say with regard to the "difficulty" of putting.
I shall, later on, deal with the principles involved in putting. It
will, in the meantime, be sufficient for me to consider and criticise
these statements generally. If this were my own uncorroborated
opinion, it is possible that the definite statements of three men like
Braid, Taylor, and Vardon might outweigh what I have said, although I
do not believe that even in that case they would; for what I have
quoted is such obvious nonsense that it would indeed be to me a
mystery if any golfer possessed of ordinary common sense could accept
any view of the matter other than that which I put forward.
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.
Since then Braid has found out that his method was wrong. He has
altered it, and now plays his puts in the only proper way, which I
shall refer to later on. As everybody knows, Braid is now a very fine
putter--_but he was not born so_. If ever there was an illustration of
a fine putter made out of a bad putter, James Braid is the outstanding
example, and James Braid is the answer to Taylor's question as to
whether a professional can improve his putting or not. Any
professional whose putting is bad can improve it by using his brains,
because when a professional puts badly it is rarely a question of his
hands, his eye, or his wrist being wrong. The seat of the deficiency
is much deeper than that.
Let us now see what James Braid has to say about putting. At page 146
of _Advanced Golf_ he practically eats his own words. This is what he
says:
Of course, they say that good putters are born and not made,
and it is certainly true that some of the finest putters we
know seem to come by their wonderful skill as a gift, and
nowadays constantly putt with an ease and a confidence that
suggest some kind of inspiration. But it is also the fact
that a man who was not a born putter, and whose putting all
through his golfing youth was of the most moderate quality,
may by study and practice make himself a putter who need fear
nobody on any putting green. I may suggest that I have proved
this in my own case. Until comparatively recently there is no
doubt that I was really a poor putter. Long after I was a
scratch player I lost more matches through bad putting than
anything else. I realised that putting was the thing that
stood in the way of further improvement, and I did my best to
improve it, so that to-day my critics are kind enough to say
that there is not very much wanting in my play on the putting
green, while I know that it was an important factor in
gaining for me my recent championship.
So I may be allowed the privilege of indicating the path
along which improvement in this department of the game may
best be effected; and what I have to say at the beginning is,
that putting is essentially a thing for the closest
mathematical and other reckoning. It is a game of
calculations pure and simple, a matter for the most careful
analysis and thought.
Now here at least we have common sense with regard to putting. Braid
holds himself out as an example of the bad putter turned into the good
putter. He does not, it is true, tell us why he was a bad putter and
how he changed his bad methods to his present excellent method, but I
have already given the key to that. I shall, however, deal with it
more fully when I come to the question of the practice of putting.
Braid says on page 147 of _Advanced Golf_, still speaking of putting,
that "the mechanical part is comparatively simple." He continues:
"Putts most generally go wrong because the strength or the line, or
both, were misjudged, and they were so misjudged because the different
factors were not valued properly, and because one or two of them were
very likely overlooked altogether."
I think very few golfers will be inclined to dispute the opening
statement that "Putts most generally go wrong because the strength or
the line, or both, were misjudged." I may say that I never heard of a
put which went wrong for any other reason. If the strength and the
line are both right, one always has an excellent chance of ending in
the tin! Braid tells us again on page 148
... that what I call the mechanical part of putting--the
hitting of the ball--is simple and sure in comparison with
the other difficulties that are presented when a long putt
has to be made; yet it is hardly necessary to say to any
experienced golfer that there are absolutely thousands of
players who fail in their putting, not because of any lack of
powers of calculation or a good eye, steady hand, and
delicacy of touch, but simply because they have fallen into a
careless way of performing this mechanical part, and of
almost feeling that any way of hitting the ball will do so
long as it is hit in the right direction and the proper
degree of strength is applied.
Again Braid says on page 149:
Absolutely everything depends on hitting the ball truly, and
the man who always does so has mastered one of the greatest
difficulties of the art of putting. A long putt can never be
run down except by a fluke when the ball has not been hit
truly, however exactly all the calculations of line and
strength have been made.
Now the point which I am making, and I hope making in such a manner
that no one will ever dare even to attempt to refute it, is the fact
that the mechanical operation of putting is one of extreme simplicity,
entirely devoid of mystery, and capable of acquirement by persons even
of a very low order of intelligence. I want to make it plain beyond
the possibility of doubt that putting is the foundation of golf and
that it can be very easily learned, provided always that the
instructor has a proper idea of the mechanics of the put. Generally
speaking, when one uses the word "mechanics" a golfer is afraid that
he is about to receive some abstruse lecture illustrated by diagrams
and mathematical formulæ, but it is not so. It is essential to a
thorough knowledge and enjoyment of the game of golf that the golfer
should understand the mechanics of putting.
James Braid says that it is a matter of mathematics and calculation,
and he is not far wrong; but the mechanics of the put are of such
extreme simplicity that no golfer or would-be golfer need be
discouraged because one refers to the elementary science which is
involved in the making of the perfect put. Rather let him be thankful
that he has James Braid's corroboration of the fact, which I have for
many years past tried to impress upon golfers, that the main thing to
strive at in connection with improving their game is a proper
understanding of the mechanical principles involved in producing the
strokes. Until the ordinary golfer has this he will not progress so
rapidly as he may desire.
I think that we may now consider that it _is_ possible to teach people
how to put; so, having disposed of this fable, let us consider the
most important features of putting. I do not propose here to
illustrate the manner in which the stroke is to be played. I have done
that fully in _Modern Golf_ and in other places. I am here concerning
myself mainly with the fundamental principles. When these are properly
grasped, and these I may say are practically all arm-chair golf, any
person of ordinary intelligence should be able to go on to a putting
green, and by carrying them out become quite a good putter.
Let us first consider the manner of propulsion of the ball. Provided,
for the sake of argument, that the putting-green were an enlarged
billiard table with a hole in the middle of it, and one were given a
penny to put into that hole from the edge of the table, how would one
endeavour to do it? There can be but little doubt one would try to
_roll_ the coin into the hole. Now that is the way one must try to
put. The ball must be rolled up to the hole. At first sight this seems
an entirely superfluous direction. The reader may say: "In what other
way may puts be sent into the hole than by rolling?" Practically,
there is no other way. It was the idea that there was another and a
better way of holing puts than by rolling them into the hole which
made James Braid in the old days such a bad putter, for in those days
James Braid putted with what is commonly called "drag." It is no
uncommon thing to hear men who play a very fine game of golf advise
players to "slide" their long puts up. Put in another way this simply
means--advice to play a long put with what is known as "drag."
[Illustration: PLATE III. HARRY VARDON
At the top of his swing, showing his weight mainly on the left
leg. This characteristic is very marked in Vardon's play.]
It is well known that at billiards one can hit very hard and direct
one's ball very well by playing with a large amount of drag, and
golfers have carried this notion on to the putting-green, but, it must
be admitted, in a very thoughtless manner. In billiards the ball is
very heavy in proportion to its size. It moves on a perfectly level
and practically smooth surface, the tip of the cue is soft and covered
with chalk, which gives a splendid grip on the ball, and the blow is
delivered very far below the centre of the ball's mass, and is
concentrated on a particular point. In golf it is impracticable in
putting to get very much below the centre of the ball. It can be done,
of course, with a club which is sufficiently lofted, but the moment
this is done there is a tendency to make the ball leave the green,
which is not calculated to make for accuracy. Moreover, be it
remembered that the contact here is between two substances which
are not well calculated to enter into communion, namely, the
comparatively hard and shiny surface of a golf ball, and the hard and
frequently unmarked face of a putter. Moreover, the golf ball is
frequently marked with excrescences called brambles or pimples.
It is obvious that in many cases the first impact will be on one of
these pimples, and also in many cases certainly not in a line dead
down the centre of that bramble and in a line coinciding with the
intended line of run of the ball. When the impact takes place in this
manner it is obvious that, according to the simplest laws of
mechanics, the put must be started wrongly. It is also obvious that if
there is this tendency to go crookedly off the face of the club the
ball will have more opportunity of getting out of the track, which it
makes for itself in the turf, if it is lifted in any degree from the
turf by a lofted club.
It is apparent that a golf ball on a putting green sinks into the
turf. It is equally apparent that it will, on its way to the hole,
make for itself a track or furrow of approximately the same depth as
the depression in which it was resting when stationary. That furrow,
to a very great extent, holds the ball to its course and minimises
very much the faulty marking of a great many of the golf balls of
to-day, so that it will be seen that the object of the player should
be not in any way whatever to lift his ball from the green in the put,
which is the invariable and inevitable tendency of attempting to put
with drag by means of a lofted club. It is an extremely common error
to suppose that a put played with drag hugs the green more than one
played in the ordinary way, or with top. As a matter of
incontrovertible fact, no put hugs the green more than a topped put.
It would be easy enough to demonstrate this were it necessary to do
so, but it is a matter which comes in more in the dynamics of golf,
and possibly I shall have the space to treat of it further there. We
may, for our immediate purpose, content ourselves with the fact that
James Braid has abandoned putting with drag, and now rolls his ball up
to the hole with, if anything, a little top, although, be it clearly
understood, there is no apparent intention on his part to obtain this
top, nor does he in _Advanced Golf_ advocate that any attempt should
be made to obtain top; but there can be no doubt whatever that the
manner in which he plays his put tends to impart a certain amount of
top to the ball, and this, of course, causes it to run very freely.
Now with regard to putting drag on a long put, it should be obvious to
any one that, considering the roughness of the green, the extreme
roughness of the ball and its comparatively light weight in proportion
to its size, it would be impossible to make that ball retain any
considerable measure of back-spin over any appreciable distance of the
green. The idea is so repugnant to common sense and practical golf
that it has always been a matter of astonishment to me to think that
it could have prevailed so much as it has. However, there can be no
doubt that putting under this utterly wrong impression has done a very
great amount of harm to the game of players who might otherwise have
been many strokes better. Let our golfer understand that there is one
way, and one way only, in practical golf to put the ball, and that is
to roll it up to the hole.
There is generally an exception to prove the rule, and if I can find
an exception to this rule, it must be when one is trying to bolt short
puts. Practically every one has experienced the difficulty of holing
short puts, especially when the green is extremely keen. It is here
that the delicacy of the stroke allows the ball and the inequalities
thereof and any obstructions on the turf to exercise their fullest
power to deflect the ball from the line to the hole. James Braid, in
these circumstances, advises bolting one's puts. Needless to say, he
explains that one should put dead for the middle of the hole, and by
bolting, of course, is meant that one should put firmly so as to give
the ball sufficient strength of run to overcome its inequalities or
those of the turf.
This, unquestionably, is good advice; but if one puts at the hole in
this manner and does not get it cleanly enough to sink into the tin at
once, the ball with top will run round the edge of the tin and remain
on the green. This is the only case in golf that I can call to mind
where there is any use in putting drag on a put, and the reason for
this is that the distance from the ball to the hole and the nature of
the green is such that the ball is able to retain a very considerable
portion of its backward spin, and upon contact with the rim of the
hole, instead of having a forward run on it which enables it to hold
up and so get away from the hole, the back-spin gets a grip on the
edge of the hole and the ball falls in.
So far as I can remember, this is absolutely the only case in which
drag of any sort may be considered useful in a put. When I say drag of
any sort I am not, of course, referring to cutting round a put, or
negotiating a stymie with back-spin, for neither of these strokes
comes within the scope of my remark.
Having arrived at a decision as to the best method of sending the ball
on its journey to the hole, we have now to consider a point of supreme
importance in golf, and one which is not sufficiently insisted upon
by instructors. This is, that at the moment of impact the face of the
putter shall form a true right angle with the line of run to the hole.
That is the fundamental point in connection with putting; but it is of
almost equal importance that the right angle shall be preserved for as
long a time as possible in the swing back, and also in the
follow-through--in other words, the head of the putter should be in
the line of run to the hole as long as possible both before and after
the stroke. With this extremely simple rule, and it will be apparent
that this can be just as well learned in an arm-chair as anywhere
else, almost anyone could put well.
There is another point of outstanding importance. I have said that the
head of the putter should form a right angle to the line of run to the
hole. I shall be more emphatic still. Let us consider the line of run
to the hole as the upright portion of a very long letter T laid on the
ground. The top of the letter T will then be formed by the front edge
of the sole of the putter, so that it will be seen that not only does
the putter face form a dead right angle to the line of run to the
hole, but that the line of run to the hole hits the putter face dead
in the centre. For all ordinary putting, that is the one and only way
to proceed. One reads in various books about putting off the heel,
putting off the toe, and putting with drag. This is, comparatively
speaking, all imbecility and theory. There is no way to put in golf
comparable with the put that goes off the centre of the club's face.
If we may treat the face of the putter as a rectangle, bisect it by a
vertical line and also by a horizontal line, the point where these two
lines cross each other will be the portion of the putter which should
come into contact with the ball.
These are extremely elementary matters; but it is impossible,
although they are so elementary, to exaggerate their importance, and
it is amazing, considering their simplicity, how much neglected they
are in all books of instruction, and, generally speaking, by all
instructors. For instance, James Braid, at page 149, tells us:
Hitting the ball truly is simply a question of bringing the
putter on to it when making the stroke to exactly the same
point as when the final address was made, and of swinging the
putter through from the back swing to the finish in a
straight line.
This statement would be correct if the address had been made correctly
in the first instance, but unless one has it in one's mind to make
one's putter the top of the T--that is, the completion of the right
angle to the line of run to the hole--the chances are that one's
original address was wrong. Then it will be clearly seen that it is
not "simply a question of bringing the putter on to it when making the
stroke to exactly the same point as when the final address was made."
The important point is to see that the final address is correctly
made; but in no book which I have read--and I have read practically
every book on golf which deserves to be read--do I find any simple and
explicit directions for the mechanical portion of the put, which, as
James Braid truly observes, is extremely simple.
Now for the idea of the stroke: The player will, of course, have
learned his grip from some of the books on golf, or from a
professional. He will in all probability have adopted the overlapping
grip, for that grip tends, more than any other, to bring both wrists
into action together; and there can, I think, be little doubt that for
most people it is the better grip. Having obtained a good general idea
of the simple mechanical operations involved in the contact of the
club with the ball, the player now has to consider how that club
moves where it is, if we may so express it, bound to him. Well, if he
has even a rudimentary idea of mechanics, he will know that if he
wishes to swing that club so that it may hit the ball in an exactly
similar manner every time, he should suspend it on a single bearing,
so that it would swing in a similar manner to the pendulum of a clock.
The perfect put, from a mechanical point of view, is made by a motion
which is equivalent to the swinging of a pendulum. If, instead of
allowing the weight of the pendulum to be, as it generally is, in the
plane of the swing, it were turned round so that the flat side faced
towards the sides of the clock, we should have a rough mechanical
presentment of the golf club in the act of making a put. This is, of
course, a counsel of absolute perfection. It is an impossibility to
the golfer, both on account of his physical and physiological
imperfections, and on account of the fact that the golfer practically
never puts with an upright putter.
We are frequently told that a put is the only true wrist stroke in
golf. As a matter of fact there is no true wrist stroke in golf, for
it is evident that if one played the put as a true wrist stroke with a
club whose lie is at a considerable angle to the horizontal, the
centre of the circle formed by the club head will be away from the
ball to such an extent that the instant the club head leaves the ball
it must leave the line of run to the hole, and equally as certainly
will it leave the line of run to the hole immediately after it has
struck the ball.
Now this is not what we require, so it has come to pass that the put
at golf is to a very great extent a compromise. It must, above
everything, be a deliberate stroke with a clean follow-through. There
must be no suggestion of reducing the put to a muscular effort. The
idea of the pendulum must be preserved as much as possible, and the
strength of the put regulated to a very great extent by the length of
one's backward swing.
It is of the first importance that the body should be kept still
during the process of putting, and it stands to reason that the wrists
must also be kept as much as possible in the same place. If one finds
that one has a marked tendency to sway or to move the body about,
standing with one's feet close together will frequently correct this.
I have referred to the fact that the put is not a wrist stroke. As a
matter of fact, the wrists must in all good putting "go out after the
ball." By this is meant that at the moment of impact the wrists must
in the follow-through travel in a line parallel with the line of run
to the hole, and they must finish so that the club head is able, at
the finish, to stay over the line of run to the hole. To do this, it
is obvious that the wrists, after impact, must move forward. No true
follow-through in the put can be obtained from stationary wrists. This
may sound a little complicated. As a matter of fact it is nothing of
the sort, and the action is very simple, very natural, and when
properly played the ball goes very sweetly off the club and with
splendid direction.
There is one good general rule for regulating the distance which one
should stand from the ball in putting. When one addresses one's ball,
one should be in such a position that the ball is right underneath
one's eyes. To put it so that there can be no possible mistake as to
what I mean, I may say that in most cases the eyes, the ball, and the
hole should form a triangle in a plane at a right angle to the
horizon. Now I know how hard it is for some people to follow a remark
which refers to planes and right angles and horizons, so as this is a
matter of extreme importance, and a matter where many beginners go
absolutely wrong, I shall make it so plain that there is no
possibility of misunderstanding what I mean.
Let us imagine a large, irregularly shaped triangle with the apex at
the hole. We shall suppose, for the sake of argument, that this
triangle is composed of cardboard, that it is a right-angled triangle,
and that its base is 4' 6" wide. This triangle, then, is laid on the
green so that its base is vertical, and the corner which is remote
from the hole represents the ball, the upper corner of the base being,
of course, the player's eyes.
I believe this to be a matter of very great importance, for here it
will be seen that we have the eyes, the ball, and the hole all in the
same plane. Some people like putting with very upright putters. For
the purpose of experiment I had a perfectly upright putter made, but
upright putters are, I think, open to this objection--one's body hangs
too far over them, so that at the moment of striking the ball one is
looking inwards towards the ball, for one's head projects beyond the
line of run to the hole for a considerable distance. It will thus be
seen that one is looking down one line to the hole, and putting over
another. Needless to say, this cannot be good for direction. The eye,
the ball, and the hole should undoubtedly be in the same plane, and
that plane at right angles to the horizon.
As regards the position of the ball in relation to the feet there is
some slight difference of opinion, but generally it may be said that
about midway between the feet is the best position. If anything, the
ball should perhaps be a little nearer to the left foot than to the
right, but this is a matter upon which we cannot lay down any hard and
fast rule. The main point for the player to consider will be how he
can best secure the mechanical results which I have stated as being
the fundamental requisites of good putting. The matter of an inch or
two in his stance, nearer the hole or farther from it, is not of very
great importance compared with this. Some players have an idea that
they can secure a better run on their ball when putting by turning
over their wrists at the moment of impact. This is one of the most
dangerous fallacies which it is possible to conceive. The idea is
absolutely and fundamentally erroneous.
If one desires to put any run on one's ball more than is obtained by
the method of striking it which I have stated, it is always open to
one to play the put a little after the club has reached the lowest
point in its swing,--that is to say, as the putter is ascending, but
this is practically unnecessary. If one requires a little more run on
the ball it is best obtained by making the stroke a little stronger.
Any attempt whatever to do anything by altering the angle of the face
of the club during impact is utterly beyond the realm of practical
golf.
There are many refinements in the art of putting which go somewhat
beyond the fundamental principles laid down in this chapter, in that
they call for cut of a particular kind; but for about ninety-five per
cent of the puts which one has to play, practically nothing more need
be known by the golfer than is here set out.
I am not here going to describe the method in which one cuts round a
stymie, for I have done that very fully elsewhere; and, moreover, this
does not so completely come within the scope of this work, for it
enters much more into the region of practical stroke play than do the
matters which I have treated of and which I intend to treat of in this
book.
There is, however, one stroke which is played on the putting-green,
yet is not truly, of course, a put. It is a stroke which I myself
introduced into the game several years ago. This is the stroke which
is now known as the Vaile Stymie Stroke. It is unique among golf
strokes in that it is not an arc. Every known golf stroke before I
introduced this stroke into the game was an arc of a more or less
irregular shape, but it was an arc. The essence of my stroke is that
it is produced in practically a straight line. For all ordinary
stymies it is without doubt the most delicate and accurate stroke
which can possibly be played, and the manner of playing it, after a
golfer has once conquered the force of habit which tends to make him
raise his club from the earth immediately he leaves his ball, is very
simple. The mashie is drawn back from the ball in a perfectly straight
line, and with the sole of it practically brushing, or no more than
just clearing the green. It is then moved sharply forward, but instead
of coming up with the ball after it has hit it, it passes clean
forward down the intended line of flight in a perfectly horizontal
line, provided always, of course, that the green is level, so that it
finishes some inches down the line to the hole and practically
touching the green. No attempt must be made to strike the ball or to
take turf. The idea in one's mind should be to divide the ball from
the green with the front edge of the sole.
Many mashies are not suitable for this shot, because the sole is not
cut away enough on the back edge, as indeed the sole of every mashie
should be; so it will frequently be found that the best club for
negotiating stymies is the niblick, for its sole being cut away so
much enables the front edge of the club to get well in underneath the
ball. This is a matter of the very greatest importance in playing
stymies, for the simple reason that it enables the player to put so
much more of his force into elevation than is possible when the front
edge of his mashie is cocked up, as it frequently is, by the breadth
of the sole of the mashie; for in many cases when one is trying to
play a stymie the rear edge of the sole of the club makes contact with
the green first and tilts up the front edge, so that it is at least a
quarter of an inch higher than it should be, and instead of striking
the ball almost at the point where it is resting on the turf, it gets
it fully a quarter of an inch to half an inch higher up. The
consequence of this is that too much of the force of the blow goes
into propulsion instead of elevation.
This means that if the stymie is close to the hole and there is only a
very short run after the ball has got over the obstacle, the player
invariably finds that with his imperfectly constructed mashie he
cannot put enough stop on the ball, nor play the shot delicately
enough to give it a chance to get into the hole, because the run is in
many cases far too strong. Every golfer who desires to play a stymie
well should see to it that he has a mashie with a very fine front
edge, and that the sole is not flat in any part, but begins to curve
away immediately it leaves the front edge. With the mashie constructed
on these lines all ordinary stymies absolutely lose their terror if
the shot is played as described.
The delicacy and accuracy of this stroke are remarkable. The direction
is an astonishing illustration of the importance of the rule for
putting which I have laid down, of keeping the front edge of the
putter at a right angle to the line of run to the hole, both before
and after impact. As the whole essence of playing this stymie stroke
correctly consists of the straight movement of the face of the club
sharply down the intended line of flight and run to the hole, the
wrists have naturally to follow the head of the club in a line
parallel with that made by the head of the club, and so accurate is
the result that in any ordinary stymie if a wire were stuck on the top
of the intervening ball, I would guarantee to hit the wire every time.
This stroke was a revelation to me of the importance of the principles
which I am now enunciating, although, of course, I was well aware of
their soundness before I discovered this stroke.
The usefulness of this stroke is not confined merely to playing
stymies, but it makes a magnificent and accurate chip shot; or if one
has a bad portion of green to put over one can, with this stroke, rely
upon going as straight through the air as one can in the ordinary
course over the green.
Lest anyone should think that this is merely a theoretical stroke, let
me tell how I came to introduce it into the game of golf. I had used
the stroke myself for some time. One afternoon I was in the shop of
George Duncan, the famous young Hanger Hill professional. It was
raining heavily, and to pass the time I was knocking a ball about on
the mat. Presently I set up a stymie and said to Duncan:
"Show me how you play your stymie, George."
"Oh, just in the usual way," said Duncan.
"Well, show me," I said.
Duncan took his mashie and played the stymie shot perfectly, "just in
the usual way."
"There is a much better way of playing a stymie than that," I said,
and I set up the shot and showed Duncan how I played it by my method.
Very few people can give George Duncan any points with the mashie. He
got hold of the stroke at once, and he would hardly wait for the rain
to stop before he went out on to the green to try it there. He plays
the shot perfectly now, and maintains, as indeed I show in _Modern
Golf_, that there is no stymie stroke to compare with it, and of that
I have myself absolutely no doubt. In fact, so accurate is the stroke
that if I found myself badly off my game with my putter, I should take
my mashie and play this stroke, for as regards the fundamental
principle of putting it is a wealth of instruction in itself.
Cutting round a stymie is nearly always included in the chapter on
putting, but it is practically always a mashie stroke, and in the
majority of cases is a very short pitch with a large amount of cut. On
account of the loft of the mashie the club gets well in underneath the
ball, and as the head of the club at the moment of impact is
travelling in a line which runs at a fairly sharp angle across the
intended line of flight and run of the ball it imparts a strong _side
roll_ to the ball. The cut on a golf ball in such a stroke as I am now
describing resembles almost exactly the off-break spin in cricket.
This means that the ball has a strong side-spin, so that the moment it
hits the earth it endeavours to roll sideways, but the force of
propulsion fights this tendency, and the resulting compromise is a
curve which enables the ball to get round the intervening obstacle,
and, if the stroke is well executed, to find the hole.
Almost all golf books instruct the player wrongly about this stroke.
He is told to draw his hands in towards him at the moment of impact,
and in some cases, even where the author calls his book _Practical
Golf_, he is told to draw his hands in after impact. Both of these
instructions are utterly wrong. There must be no conscious drawing in
of the hands at the moment when one is trying to cut a put. All the
cut must be done by the natural swing of the club across the intended
line of run of the ball: in other words, the cut is a continuous
process from the time that the club begins its swing until the time
that it ends it. The fact that the ball is in the way of the face of
the club as it crosses the intended line of run to the hole may be
said to be merely an incident in the passage of the club head. Any
attempt whatever to interfere with the natural swing of the club or to
juggle with the ball during impact, or, more futile still, after
impact, must result in irretrievably ruining the stroke.
The stymie shot which I have described will also be found of use a
little farther from the green, and by means of it an excellent run-up
shot, with most accurate direction, can be played. There is another
way of negotiating a stymie which I have never seen described. It is
pulling round a stymie. It will be obvious to any one acquainted with
the game that cutting round a stymie is merely another form of slice;
although of course the run of the ball is obtained in a different
manner from the curve of the slice in the air, yet the method of
production of the stroke is practically similar. So is it with pulling
a put. There is no doubt that this can be done; but I think there is
also no doubt that it is the most difficult method of negotiating a
stymie which there is. The stroke is played, to all intents and
purposes, as is the pulled drive. Some people imagine that it may be
obtained by turning over the wrist at the moment of impact. This is
quite an error, and is absolutely destructive of accuracy. As, in the
cut put, the head of the club is travelling from outside the line
across it, towards the player's side of the line at the moment of
impact, so, in the pull, the head of the club must be travelling from
the player's side of the line across and away to the far side of the
line at the moment of impact. That is the secret of the pull either in
the drive or the put.
I cannot refrain from quoting Vardon again. He says on page 148:
There should be no sharp hit and no jerk in the swing, which
should have the even gentle motion of a pendulum. In the
backward swing, the length of which, as in all other strokes
in golf, is regulated by the distance it is desired to make
the ball travel, the head of the putter should be kept
exactly in the line of the putt. Accuracy will be impossible
if it is brought round at all. There should be a short
follow-through after impact, varying, of course, according to
the length of the putt. In the case of a long one, the club
will go through much further, and then the arms would
naturally be more extended.
This is wisdom as regards the put. There can be no doubt whatever
about this being practical golf of the highest order, but Vardon
rather spoils it by the following sentence in which he says, "In the
follow-through the putter should be kept well down, the bottom edge
scraping the edge of the grass for some inches."
Now, if that means anything at all, it means that although Vardon's
conception of the put and its execution in many ways is excellent, yet
he has been making for years the error which made James Braid a bad
putter--in other words, he has been putting with drag. It is well
known that for a very long time Vardon's weakness was his putting; and
I firmly believe that the secret of his bad putting was this low
follow-through with his put. I think that Vardon's follow-through in
his put is now not so low as it was, and the consequence is that his
putting has improved.
Vardon continues:
It is easy to understand how much more this course of
procedure will tend towards the accuracy and delicacy of the
stroke than the reverse method, in which the blade of the
putter would be cocked up as soon as the ball had left it.
What is more natural, then, than that the blade of the putter should
be cocked up immediately after the ball has left it? That is exactly
what should happen in the perfectly played put. Vardon has already
told us that the put is to be played with the "even gentle motion of a
pendulum." Let us suppose for a moment that it was the weight of the
pendulum turned side-wise which had struck the golf ball. It stands to
reason that immediately the weight, which in this case answers to the
face of the golf club, has struck the ball and sent it on its way to
the hole, the face begins to "be cocked up."
Vardon here makes a totally erroneous claim. He claims greater
delicacy and accuracy for the put played with drag as against that
played as Braid now plays his puts. There can be no shadow of doubt
that the put played with drag, or with a low follow-through "scraping
the top of the grass for some inches," partakes much more of the
nature of a tap than does the put which is played with top or a
perfectly horizontal blow. If Vardon has not completely realised this,
as I think he has, he will, ere long, do so, as James Braid already
has done.
I need not here deal with complicated puts; that is to say, puts of
such a nature that one has to traverse one, two, or more slopes on
the way to the hole. These puts do not, in themselves, contain any of
the fundamental principles of golf. Each one stands entirely by
itself, and these are absolutely matters in which nothing but practice
on the green can be of any use. It will be obvious to any schoolboy
that if he has to run across five little hills on his way to the hole,
and that three of these slant one way and two the other; and if we say
for the sake of example that they are all practically equal in their
width and slope, that it will be a case of four of them cancelling out
on the good old plus and minus system of our schoolboy days, and we
shall then be left practically to calculate how much we will have to
allow for putting across the incline of one slope. This is not a case
which I should think of giving myself. I merely give it because I came
across such an illustration given in a book which is supposed to cater
for those who desire the higher knowledge of golf, but as a matter of
practical golf these situations but seldom occur.
Allowing for the drop in a green when one is putting across the slope,
requires a lot of practice, and is most absolutely and emphatically
not a thing that can be learned in an arm-chair, or in any golf
school. It must be learned on the green itself.
Although James Braid has remodelled his putting with such success, he
still, to a certain extent, clings to his own idea of putting with
drag. On page 154 of _Advanced Golf_ he says:
For general use I am a strong believer in a putter having
just a little loft. I know that some players like one with a
perfectly straight face which does not impart the slightest
drag to the ball, their theory being that such putters are
capable of more delicate work than others, and that the ball
answers more readily to the most delicate tap from them.
There may be considerable truth in this, though, obviously,
great skill and confidence on the part of the player are
taken for granted.
And again he says:
The strength of long putts can generally be more accurately
regulated with a lofted putter than with a straight-faced
one.
He continues:
This is the kind of putter that I might recommend for what
might be called a medium or average green, if there can be
said to be such a thing; but I wish to point out that the
putter that is the best suited to such a green is not so well
suited to either a very fast green or a very slow one, and
that in each of the latter cases the club best adapted to the
circumstances is one with considerably more loft on it.
On page 56 he says:
Now in both these cases, when the greens are very slow and
when they are extremely fast, the best putter for them is one
with very considerable loft on the face, and it will often be
found that there is nothing better than a fairly
straight-faced iron, or an ordinary cleek, if it is big
enough in the face to suit the player. With this club and its
great dragging power, the effect seems to be practically to
reduce the distance between the ball and the hole. Such is
the drag that the ball is simply pushed over a considerable
part of the way, and it is only when it is quite near to the
hole that it begins, as it were, to run in the usual way. The
fact is that for the first part of the journey the ball does
not revolve regularly upon its axis, as it does when
approaching the hole, but simply skates over the turf, and it
will be found that with a little practice the point at which
it will stop skating can be determined with very considerable
exactness. When it does so stop there is still so much drag
on it that it is very quickly brought to a standstill. Thus
in both cases, of the very fast and the very slow green, the
ball can be played without fear right up to the hole when the
putter is so well lofted as I have recommended.
Here we are told that the ball "simply skates over the turf." As I
have shown before, this is one of the greatest fallacies in golf. It
is impossible to obtain any results by drag in a long put, which are
not better obtained by simply rolling the ball up. Braid says that
"with a little practice the point at which it will stop skating can be
determined with very considerable exactness," and he goes on to say
that "when it does so stop there is still so much drag on it that it
is very quickly brought to a standstill."
This is obviously nonsense. It is the drag on the ball which makes it
do any skating which may take place. It is obvious that when the
skating has ceased the drag has stopped exerting its influence. How,
then, is it going to stop the ball from rolling in a natural manner?
We see here the mistake of importing into golf the well-known
phenomena of billiards, but one would have thought that the experience
of the billiard-table would have been sufficient to show the fallacy
of this statement. The billiard player uses drag to enable him to play
his ball fast and accurately, and there is no doubt that by means of
this drag he does obtain very considerable accuracy, but directly the
ball has ceased to "skate" he knows that that is the time when the
drag has entirely departed from it, and that the momentum has
conquered the friction caused by the back-spin; in other words, the
drag having accomplished its work has gone out of business, and all
the run that is on the ball is derived from the remains of the
momentum imparted to it.
I cannot say too emphatically that in my opinion this idea of putting
with drag, or with any club having a loft more than that which barely
enables one to see the face of it when it is properly soled, is
dangerous and calculated to produce bad putting on the part of anyone
who attempts it, even as it did in the case of James Braid himself.
There is one remark which James Braid makes about stymies which I
should like to refer to here. Braid says: "Given complete confidence,
the successful negotiation of a stymie is a much less difficult matter
than it is imagined to be, though in the nature of things it can never
be very easy." I must say that I differ entirely from Braid in this
respect. I maintain that in the nature of things most ordinary
stymies, when played in the manner which I advocate, are very easy.
The difficulty of the stymie, provided one's club is properly
built--and later on I shall refer to the construction of the
mashie--is much exaggerated. Eight of ten stymies should present no
more difficulty than an ordinary put. The only time a stymie should
present a difficulty to the golfer is when the intervening ball is
much nearer to the hole than to the ball which is stymied, so that the
force required to get over the obstacle is so much that the player,
after landing on the far side of the stymie, has too much power in his
ball to give it a chance to settle in the hole, but even such a stymie
as this may, if the ground be suitable, be overcome by lofting one's
ball so as to drop on the hither side of the stymie, bound over it on
its first bound, and continue on its way to the hole. This, probably,
is one of the most difficult ways of negotiating a stymie; but as
showing that it is eminently a matter of practical golf, I may say
that I was illustrating the shot one day to a man who had practically
just started golf. I showed him how to obtain the shot, and he did it
at his first attempt. I advised him not to try again that day.
Braid continues:
I need not say that the pitching method is only
practicable--and then it is generally the only shot that is
practicable--when both balls are near the hole, and are so
situated in relation to each other and to the hole that the
ball can reach the latter as the result of such a stroke as
enabled it to clear the opponent's ball.
Braid is, I think, referring to a clean pitch into the hole, although
the photograph leaves this open to doubt. The pitching method is
practicable when one is stymied in almost any position on the green,
provided always, as I have said, that one has any chance whatever of
pulling up in time to get into the hole after having got over the
stymie. Let me give an example:--Supposing my ball were fifteen yards
from the hole, that the green was absolutely level, and that I had a
stymie ten inches or ten feet in front of me. I should not hesitate
for a moment to use the shot which I have described as the best stymie
stroke in the game. The ball in front of me, so far from being an
obstruction, or in any way whatever putting me off, would, if
anything, serve as a good line to the hole. I am aware that to many
golfers who do not know this stroke, and comparatively few do, this
will sound like exaggeration. I am prepared at any time to demonstrate
the practical nature of what I am writing to any one of my readers who
cannot obtain the results which I get with this stroke.
At the time that I introduced this stroke there was much controversy
about it, and it was claimed that it was not a new stroke, but that it
was exactly the same as the stroke played by all golfers when stymied.
This, however, is quite an error. Speaking of the stymie shot, James
Braid says
... it is just an ordinary chip up, with a clean and quick
rise, the fact being remembered that the green must not be
damaged. To spare the latter the swing back should be low
down and near to the surface, which will check the tendency
to dig. The thing that will ensure the success of the shot,
so far as the quick and clean rise is concerned--and often
enough success depends entirely upon that--is the
follow-through. Generally, if the club is taken through
easily and cleanly, all will be well.
It is obvious from this description that the stroke in Braid's mind is
totally different from my stymie stroke. With the stroke as I play it,
it is an absolute impossibility to "dig" into the green. One has no
need to have any anxiety whatever about the green, for as the club
travels parallel with the surface of the green all the time, it is
obvious that no damage can ensue. If there is any deflection whatever
from the straight line, it would be at the moment of impact, but even
here it stands to reason that there is practically no deflection
whatever; for even in a stroke played, relatively speaking, so slowly
as is this shot, any alteration of the line of the stroke after it has
once been decided upon, is quite improbable, but the dominant idea in
the player's mind must be to insert the front edge of his mashie
between the ball and the grass, and above everything to keep his
follow-through as straight and as low along the surface of the green
as was his swing back. It is this straight and low follow-through
which gives the ball its "quick and clean rise," as Braid calls it.
Curiously enough, the follow-through which Braid shows for his stymie
shot, wherein the head of the club is raised from the green, will not
give anything like so quick a rise or such delicacy of touch as will
the stroke played in the manner which I have described, and, above
everything, with the very low follow-through insisted upon by me.
[Illustration: PLATE IV. HARRY VARDON
At the top of his swing in the drive. This is a fine
illustration of Vardon's perfect management of his weight,
which is mainly on his left foot. Observe carefully the
wrists, which are in the best possible position to develop
power.]
I may mention that George Duncan never uses any other stroke than this
when playing a short stymie. Indeed, he went so far as to say, when I
was having him photographed for my illustrations in _Modern Golf_,
that it was useless to take any exposures of the ordinary stymie shot,
for the stroke introduced and described by me had practically put it
out of the game.
Speaking of cutting round a stymie, James Braid says: "Whichever way I
wish to make the ball curl, either round the other ball from the
left-hand side, or from the right, I hit my own with the toe of the
club, drawing the club towards me in the former case so as to make a
slice, and holding the face of it at an angle--toe nearer the hole
than the heel--in the latter, in order to produce a hook." And he
adds: "You cannot do anything by hitting the ball with the heel of
your putter," to which I would rejoin, nor can you do anything by
hitting the ball with the toe of your putter, that you cannot do
better by hitting it absolutely in the middle, which is the only
proper part wherewith to hit a golf ball.
In the illustrations Braid is shown cutting the put with an aluminium
club. One has no more chance of cutting round a stymie with a club of
this nature than one would have with a bar of soap, for the simple
reason that on account of the breadth of its sole--for if it be not an
aluminium club, it is at least shaped on the same lines--it is
impossible to get the face of the club sufficiently underneath the
ball for the loft to get to work so as to impart that side roll which
is of the essence of cutting round. Braid says at page 171: "But
remember that you can never get any work on the ball if the green is
stiff." Now if this is so, I should like to know what use there is in
attempting to put with drag?
I quite agree with Braid that it is practically impossible to get any
work whatever on the ball with the club he is shown using. With such a
club it would be still more difficult, if not absolutely impossible,
to obtain any appreciable drag, but if, as Braid says, "you can never
get any work on the ball when the green is stiff," how can he advise
one to attempt to put with drag on a stiff green? To my mind this is
absolutely bad and misleading advice.
In my chapter on the "Construction of Clubs" it will be seen that I
advocate a short putter for short puts. In _Advanced Golf_ James Braid
has some interesting things to say about gripping low down. He says:
Many golfers grip very low down, even half-way between the
leather and the head. If their putting when done this way is
first class, nobody can say anything to them, but if it is
not first class it may be pointed out to them that the system
is absolutely bad. It may be allowed to pass for holing-out
purposes; but for a putt of any length it cannot be good, for
the club is not swung in the ordinary easy manner by which
distance can be so accurately gauged. The ball is more or
less poked along. When a man putts in this way he is putting
largely by instinct, and even though he may generally putt
well, his work on the greens cannot be thoroughly reliable.
No putting is so good and consistently effective as is that
which is done with a gentle even swing, which can be
regulated to a nicety, and such putting is only possible when
there is enough shaft left below the grip to swing with.
I am quite in accord with what James Braid says about this method of
putting, and I do not for one moment think that the short grip should
be used for approach puts, but I am sure the nearer one gets to the
hole the closer one should get down to the ball. Braid deals further
on with the question of shortening one's putter. He says:
As to the length of the shaft, many players, because they
find that they always grip their putters a foot or so from
the end of it, proceed in due course to have the best part of
that foot cut off, or in purchasing a new putter they have
the shaft cut very short. Are they quite satisfied that it is
not better to have a fair amount of shaft projecting up above
the place where they grip when that place is very low down?
The answer to this is that in many cases the wood which projects above
the grip is very much in the way of true putting. Any golfer who is
foolish enough to cut anything like a foot off any club without any
compensation to the head in the way of balance must be expected to pay
the penalty for his ignorance, and anyone having a club constructed
for him on such a principle, or, rather, want of principle, will
inevitably pay for it. Braid goes on to say:
Often enough no consideration is given to this point; it is
not imagined that the shaft above the grip can serve any
useful purpose. Yet it is constantly found that a putter cut
down is not the same putter as it was before, not so good,
and has not the same balance; and, again, many players must
have been surprised sometimes, when doing some half-serious
putting practice with a cleek, iron, or driving mashie, each
club with its long shaft, to find out what wonderfully
accurate work could be done in this way. The inference from
all experience, having theoretical principle to back it, is
that the top or spare part of the shaft acts as a kind of
balance when the putter is gripped low down, and tends
materially to a more delicate touch and to true hitting of
the ball. A very little reflection will lead the reader to
believe that this is so, and in some cases it may lead him
towards a revision of his present methods.
Personally, I should not think that even "a very little reflection"
would be necessary to induce anyone to believe that the top part of
the shaft acts "as a kind of balance" when the putter is gripped low
down, but it is quite obvious that it is possible to build a putter,
let us say, for the sake of example, two-thirds of the length of an
ordinary putter, which is just as perfectly balanced as the long
club. This is not any question of theory--it is a matter of absolutely
proved and tried practice in golf. One may have a perfect putter which
will be ruined by taking a few inches off the shaft. The balance of
that putter is probably irrevocably destroyed, unless, perchance, the
owner is lucky in adding weight to the head in some way, but dealing
with a putter like this is tricky work for one who does not understand
it. The main point in connection with this matter of Braid's, which I
have quoted, is that he gives a kind of qualified approval to the idea
of the short putter for short puts. Personally, I think it is the
soundest of sound golf, and I am inclined to think that before many
years we shall see the shorter clubs used in their proper place when
their value is more clearly understood.
Vardon has some very interesting things to say in his book, _The
Complete Golfer_, on "Complicated Putts," while dealing with what he
calls "one of the most difficult of all putts--that in which there is
a more or less pronounced slope from one side or the other, or a
mixture of the two." As he truly says, "In this case it would
obviously be fatal to putt straight at the hole." He continues: "I
have found that most beginners err in being afraid of allowing
sufficiently for the slope"; and I have found that nine champions of
ten make exactly the same error. It is as bad a fault at golf as it is
at bowls to be "narrow," by which, in golf, is meant not to allow
enough for the slope of the green, for it is obvious that if one is
narrow one does not give the hole a chance any more than one does when
one is short; so we may add to the stock maxim in putting "Never up,
never in," another one, which is just as sound, "Never be narrow."
Vardon goes fully into the general principles underlying these
complicated puts, but as I have already indicated, this is
unquestionably a matter which can only be settled by practice on the
green; but he also goes into the question of the manner in which the
stroke should be played, and here we have a subject which legitimately
comes within the scope of this work. He continues:
But there are times when a little artifice may be resorted
to, particularly in the matter of applying a little cut to
the ball. There is a good deal of billiards in putting, and
the cut stroke on the green is essentially one which the
billiard player will delight to practise, but I warn all
those who are not already expert at cutting with the putter
to make themselves masters of the stroke in private practice
before they attempt it in a match, because it is by no means
easy to acquire. The chief difficulty which the golf student
will encounter in attempting it will be to put the cut on as
he desires, and at the same time to play the ball with the
proper strength and keep on the proper line. It is easy
enough to cut the ball, but it is most difficult, at first at
all events, to cut it and putt it properly at the same time.
For the application of cut, turn the toe of the putter
slightly outwards and away from the hole, and see that the
face of the club is kept to this angle all the way through
the stroke. Swing just a trifle away from the straight line
outwards, and the moment you come back on to the ball draw
the club sharply across it. It is evident that this movement,
when properly executed, will give to the ball a rotary
motion, which on a perfectly level green would tend to make
it run slightly off to the right of the straight line along
which it was aimed.
There are one or two points in this statement which are of very great
importance. Vardon says: "For the application of cut turn the toe
slightly outwards and away from the hole, and see that the face of the
club is kept to this angle all the way through the stroke." This is
absolutely unsound golf, for Vardon is advising his reader to play the
put with the toe of the putter slightly outwards and away from the
hole. It stands to reason that following this advice will put the face
of the club in such a position that at the moment of impact it will be
impossible for it to be at a right angle to the intended line of run
to the hole, and this rule is, for all purposes of practical golf,
invariable. It is obvious that coming on to the ball in the manner
suggested must tend to push it away to the right--that is to say, it
would have a strong tendency to go away to the right from the very
moment of impact, which is not what is generally wanted in a good put;
also playing the put in this manner tends quite naturally to decrease
the amount of cut put on it. The idea that cut mashie shots and cut
puts are played in this manner has arisen from the fact that very
frequently the golfer addresses the ball with the toe of his club laid
back a little, but by the time he has come on to the ball again he has
corrected this. In many cases, if it were not for laying the toe of
the club back a little in this manner, golfers would be inclined,
although as a matter of strict and accurate golf they should not be,
to drag the ball across towards the left of the hole.
Vardon says: "Swing just a trifle away from the straight line
outwards, and the moment you come back on to the ball draw the club
sharply across it." Now here again we see this outstanding error of
practically every man who ever put pen to paper to write about golf,
which is that in producing the cut, whether it be in a put or a sliced
drive, something is done intentionally to the ball during the period
in which the ball and the club are in contact. This is absolutely
wrong. I have explained before that the cut put, and indeed all cut
strokes at golf, are produced by the club swinging across the intended
line of flight or run at the moment of impact, and the amount of cut
depends entirely upon the angle and the speed at which the club head
is travelling across the intended line of flight or run. It is obvious
that the amount of cut must also, to a certain extent, depend on the
amount of loft of the club, for the greater the loft of the club the
greater assistance will the golfer who is applying the cut obtain from
the weight of the ball.
Vardon goes on to say: "It is evident that this movement, when
properly executed, will give to the ball a rotary motion, which on a
perfectly level green would tend to make it run slightly off to the
right of the straight line along which it was aimed"; but as I have
already shown, the unfortunate part of it is that a put so played
would not go down the straight line which every golfer desires that
his put shall go on; nor indeed on anything like it.
Also it is a delusion that it is possible with any of the ordinary
putters to obtain a cut of a sufficiently pronounced degree to remain
on the ball, especially on the bramble balls, for any appreciable
distance. Vardon supposes a case of a steep but even slope all the way
from the ball to the hole, and he gives instructions as to how to put
across this slope with cut so as to hold the ball up against the
slope. He says:
But we may borrow from the slope in another way than by
running straight up it and straight down again. If we put cut
on the ball, it will of itself be fighting against the hill
the whole way, and though if the angle is at all pronounced
it may not be able to contend against it without any extra
borrow, much less will be required than in the case of the
simple putt up the hill and down again.
In the first place, I may remark that we do not generally borrow from
a slope "by running straight up it and straight down again." The path
of the ball is generally, almost from the time it is hit, a curve, and
a gradual curve, in which one sees to it that the ball is at its
farthest from the straight line to the hole somewhere about midway to
the hole. But this idea of putting cut on the ball with a putter,
which is sufficient to hold the ball up against the hill for any
appreciable distance, is practically a delusion. I can easily
understand that if Vardon plays the cut put as he himself directs it
to be played, that he thinks that cut administered to a ball by an
ordinary putter may have a very great effect in holding the ball up
against the side of a hill for a considerable distance, but this
really is not so. Putting, however, as Vardon instructs one to put for
obtaining cut, would in itself punch the ball up against the slope of
the hill, and I can easily believe that anybody who plays the put like
this, thinking that he is obtaining cut by so doing, will be under the
impression that cut is a very useful thing for holding the ball up
against the slope in this manner, whereas he is in effect simply
punching the ball up against the slope--in other words, he is playing
a put, which if the green were perfectly level, would be yards off his
line to the hole and to the right of it.
Vardon goes on to say:
Now it must be borne in mind that it is a purely artificial
force, as it were, that keeps the ball from running down the
slope, and as soon as the run on the ball is being exhausted
and the spin at the same time, the tendency will be, not for
the ball to run gradually down the slope--as it did in the
case of the simple putt without cut--but to surrender to it
completely and run almost straight down.
There is a fundamental error here, for Vardon states that practically
the spin on the put and the run on the ball will be exhausted at the
same time, but it is an utter impossibility to calculate with any
exactness whatever as to what happens in such a case. Vardon knows no
more about it than any other golfer, and all that any golfer knows
about this is extremely little, so that to advise anyone to attempt to
hold his ball up against a slope by the application of cut with any
ordinary putter, particularly a broad-soled putter, is to invite him
to play his shot blindfolded.
Vardon does not mention the length of the put which he considers it
possible to play with this cut, but in his diagram he shows a put
which would conceivably be quite a long put, let us say for the sake
of argument fifteen or sixteen feet, but the theory would be just as
bad if it were much less. He says:
Our plan of campaign is now indicated. Instead of going a
long way up the hill out of our straight line and having a
very vague idea of what is going to be the end of it all, we
will neutralise the end of the slope as far as possible by
using the cut and aim to a point much lower down the
hill--how much lower can only be determined with knowledge of
the particular circumstances, and after the golfer has
thoroughly practised the stroke and knows what he can do with
it. And instead of settling on a point half-way along the
line of the putt as the highest that the ball shall reach,
this summit of the ascent will now be very much nearer the
hole, quite close to it in fact. We putt up to this point
with all the spin we can get on the ball, and when it reaches
it, the forward motion and the rotation die away at the same
time, and the ball drops away down the hill, and, as we hope,
into the hole that is waiting for it close by.
Vardon may well say "as we hope," for the put described by him has no
more chance of being brought off on a putting-green than Vardon has of
winning another open championship from an aeroplane. To speak of
putting a ball in this manner, and treating it with such magic that
when it gets up by the hole the forward motion and the rotation die
away at the same time, is not practical golf, but absolute moonshine,
for it would be an utter impossibility to persuade any golf ball which
has ever been made to receive from any known form of golf club
sufficient cut to make it behave in the manner described. The theory
of the thing on paper is to a very great extent right, with the
exception that the cut described would require to be obtained by a
club with a much greater loft than any ordinary putter; but it is
evident that putting with putters such as those which Braid or Vardon
use, it would be an utter impossibility to get cut on the ball which
would stay with the ball during a long put and exert much influence in
holding the ball up against any appreciable slope, for with these
putters, which have not much loft, it is evident that any spin
whatever which is imparted to them by drawing the putter across the
line of run at the moment of impact will be mainly about a vertical
axis which is, in effect, the spin of a top. It is evident that as the
ball progresses across the green there will be a very strong effort
indeed on the part of the ball, following its friction on the green,
to wear down this vertical motion and convert it into the ordinary
roll of a naturally hit put.
Even when one is putting with a highly lofted club and with a
tremendous amount of drag on a perfectly flat green, the drag goes off
the ball in a wonderfully short space of time, and here, of course,
one is using a spin which is analogous to the drag of the billiard
player, for it is pure back-spin which is fighting in the same plane
the forward roll of the golf ball. Therefore it is reasonable to
suppose, and indeed it is undoubted that the ball would be more likely
to retain this pure back-spin for a much longer time than would the
ball with the side-spin imparted by the putter, for the spin which is
imparted by the putter does not directly fight the forward progress of
the ball as it is spinning across the plane of the roll which the ball
desires to take, whereas, as I have before pointed out, the ball
played with drag is absolutely fighting the forward roll of the golf
ball. It therefore would for a very short distance skid over the
putting-green, but those who only theorise about these matters have a
ridiculously exaggerated idea of the influence of drag on the golf
ball.
I have made it very plain, and I cannot emphasise the matter too
strongly, that any attempt whatever in long puts to use drag or cut of
any kind is to be deprecated.
There is another matter which Vardon refers to that I should like to
notice here. He says:
One of the problems which strike most fear into the heart of
the golfer is when his line from the ball to the hole runs
straight down a steep slope and there is some considerable
distance for the ball to travel along a fast green. The
difficulty in such a case is to preserve any control over the
ball after it has left the club, and to make it stop anywhere
near the hole if the green is really so fast and steep as
almost to impart motion of itself. In a case of this sort I
think it generally pays best to hit the ball very nearly upon
the toe of the putter, at the same time making a short, quick
twitch or draw of the club across the ball towards the feet.
Little forward motion will be imparted in this manner, but
there will be a tendency to half lift the ball from the green
at the beginning of its journey, and it will continue its way
to the hole with a lot of drag upon it. It is obvious that
this stroke, to be played properly, will need much practice
in the first place, and judgment afterwards, and I can do
little more than state the principle upon which it should be
made.
I need hardly do more here than repeat what I have said in the case of
the other puts. Any attempt to jump a ball at the beginning of the
put on a steep, fast green is about as bad a method of starting it as
one could possibly imagine. There is nothing for it but the smooth,
steady roll. Few greens, of course, are so steep that the ball will
run off them unless it has been very violently played, so the ordinary
principles of putting still hold good here--there is one way to play
that put, and that is not from the toe, but from the centre, of the
club, and as straight as may be for the hole, having due regard to the
slope or slopes of the green. Of course, as I have before indicated,
if one is very near to the hole, certainly not more than two to three
feet at the utmost, one may be excused for putting straight at the
hole with drag, because a ball can be made to carry its drag for about
this distance.