CHAPTER VII

THE FUNCTION OF THE EYES

One of the commonest of the many excuses advanced for missing one's

drive is, "I lifted my eye." If the player only knew it he could lift

his eye with impunity. That is not what matters. It was lifting his

head which caused the trouble.

"Keep your eye on the ball" is, without question, the soundest of

sound golf maxims, but it is both abused and misused. We need not

waste time arguing the question as to whether or not keeping one's eye

on the ball at the moment of impact is absolutely essential to success

in driving. Every golfer knows that for all purposes of practical golf

one absolutely must keep one's eye on the ball, and that to do any

other thing with the eyes at the moment of striking the ball is, to

put it mildly, quite inconvenient.

The trouble in connection with lifting one's eye is that one's eyes

are in one's head. The seat of the machinery which works the golf

drive is in the same place. If one relaxes for a moment the mental

effort which has to be made whilst the golf stroke is being executed,

the eyes quite naturally wander in the direction in which the ball is

about to go. That in itself would not be so bad. The eyes

unfortunately do not wander without carrying the head with them. The

head is attached to the portion of the body where, roughly speaking,

the centre of the swing is situated. Immediately the head moves, the

centre of the circle, if it may for purposes of illustration be so

called, is affected. Hopeless inaccuracy is the result. It is a matter

of the most vital importance in golf that the eyes must not move.

Keeping the eyes in the one position from the moment when one has

finally addressed the ball until the moment of impact practically

ensures the proper management of one's weight; for it stands to reason

that if the eyes do not move it is impossible for the head to move,

and if the head does not move it will be impossible to sway, and

therefore to get the weight on to the right leg at the top of the

swing, as do so many golfers who follow the misleading directions

given with regard to the distribution of weight in the golf drive.

Keeping one's head perfectly still is a matter of far greater

importance than keeping one's eye on the ball; for it will be obvious

that it is quite possible for a golfer, after having taken his

address, to keep his eye on the ball until he has driven it, but he

may in the meantime have lifted his head three or four inches. Lifting

his head three or four inches will not have caused him to take his eye

off the ball for an instant, but it will have been sufficient to have

ruined his drive. Therefore, we see that the really important thing is

to keep one's head and eyes in the same position for the impact as

they were at the moment of address. When I say the same position it is

manifest that there will be a fractional alteration, but it must be

the aim of the scientific golfer to have his eyes, at the moment of

impact, almost exactly in the same position as they were at the moment

of address.

Keeping one's eyes steady in this manner means, as has already been

pointed out, that one preserves the centre, if it may be so called, of

the swing much better than if one allows one's weight to move from one

leg to the other. Preserving the centre of the swing in this manner

means that the rhythm of the swing must be very much better than if it

has a moving "centre." A moving centre must import into the stroke of

any golfer far greater inaccuracy than there would be if his centre

had remained constant, as it will do if he keeps his head in the same

place.

Some time ago a good professional golfer asserted that the well-known

maxim "Keep your eye on the ball" was a delusion, and that it was

possible to play perfectly good golf blindfolded, provided one had

first taken one's stance and judged one's swing at the ball. In due

course a match was arranged between this professional, blindfolded,

and an amateur, and the professional was very badly beaten, as he did

not, I believe, win a single hole. This result naturally tended to

discredit his ideas very considerably.

As a matter of practical golf, what he wished to establish is

perfectly correct. Although "Keep your eye on the ball" is the

soundest of sound practical golf, it is to a very large extent

preached in a manner which is in itself entirely fallacious--for two

reasons: Firstly, the player is told that it is absolutely essential

to his stroke that he must keep his eye on the ball up to the moment

of impact, and not only must he keep it there until the moment of

impact, but that he should keep on gazing at the turf where the ball

had lain after the ball has gone on its way.

Now our professional golfer, who essayed the task of playing

blindfolded golf, was perfectly correct in stating that it is not

necessary to keep one's eye on the ball in playing golf, for the

simple reason that the eye has fulfilled its function and has gone

out of business, so far as regards that stroke, long before the head

of the club has come into contact with the ball. It is this fact which

makes us so prone to lift our eyes, and with them our heads, which of

course is fatal to good golf. I go so far as to say that if Vardon in

his drive could be automatically blindfolded when his club was two

feet from his ball, and that he could accustom himself to keeping his

head still after he was blindfolded, it would not affect his drive in

the slightest degree, for the very simple and all-sufficient reason

that the eye has finished its function in connection with the golf

stroke for a very considerable period before impact takes place. It

has assisted the golfer to take his proper stance and address, and has

aided him in judging his distance, but the arc of the golf stroke is

practically settled almost from the instant that it starts on its

downward path.

The duration of impact in a drive at golf has been measured by the

most competent authority to be one ten-thousandth of a second.

Photographs of the impact of the golf club with the golf ball taken at

the one twelve-hundred-and-fiftieth of a second, are merely blurs.

There is no clear definition of the club whatever. We can see from

this that the rate of speed at which the golf club is travelling is

extreme, even had we not the scientific measurement of the exact

amount of time consumed during the contact. It will be obvious to a

very ordinary understanding that when a club is travelling at this

terrific pace it would be impossible for anyone to impart into the

line of travel of the club head a new direction at, say, two feet from

the ball, without ruining both the force and the direction of the

ball. Therefore, it is evident that if one could close one's eyes when

the club head was two feet from the ball and still keep one's head in

exactly the same position, the impact would be practically not

affected at all.

This is the undoubted fact in so far as regards the work of the eye.

It fulfils its duty very early in the stroke; but although the

explanation of the function of the eye is so incorrectly given, still

"Keep your eye on the ball" is, and ever will be, a sound golfing

maxim, for it is not given to golfing man to be able to lift his eye

and at the same time to keep his mind concentrated on his stroke, and

to keep his head in the same place as it was in when he addressed his

ball. Therefore, although it is not so absolutely necessary to keep

one's eye on the ball as is generally laid down, it is expedient to

preach to the fullest extent and to insist on what Harry Vardon calls

"the parrot cry of the links."

Most writers who deal with the matter of keeping one's eye on the ball

are not satisfied with exhorting the player to keep his eye on the

ball until after the moment of impact; they go further still and

insist upon the fact that he must continue to gaze at the piece of

turf whereon the ball lay, long after the ball has departed to the

hole. This, again, is an absolute fallacy. It is only excusable on the

principle that the greater includes the less, and that by insisting on

one gazing at the turf long after the ball has sped on its way, one

may be able to make the player do what he should do, and that is just

to keep his eye on the ball until the moment of impact, for if we

follow the advice given by many notable men of continuing to gaze at

the turf after the ball has been driven, there can be no doubt

whatever that we do much to spoil the rhythm and effectiveness of the

drive.

To preserve these we have been told that the head must be kept

immovable throughout the golf drive, and that one must keep one's eye

on the ball until it has been driven, and on the place where it was

after it has been driven. However, following Vardon's explanation of

the drive and taking what we know of this stroke ourselves, it will be

remembered that at the moment of impact, "simultaneously," Vardon

says, the body moves down the line of flight to the hole. It follows,

therefore, that if one continues turf-gazing after one has hit the

ball, that one's body is going on its way towards the hole whilst

one's head is being held backward in the opposite direction to the

travel of the body. This is absolutely bad golf, and Vardon does not

do this himself.

The truth with regard to the proper management of the eye in the golf

stroke is that it should move simultaneously with the ball, for if

there be any attempt whatever to drive the ball and to keep the head

in the same position as it was at the moment of address, this will

inevitably result in preventing the right shoulder getting through and

the body following it as it ought to do, for a rigid head and neck

will prevent any follow-through.

Vardon is very explicit about the value of timing the body so that it

goes forward down the line of flight towards the hole at the moment

the stroke is made. He shows us, as a matter of fact, that this

forward movement is practically simultaneous with the impact of the

club on the ball. It will be obvious, then, to anyone, that this

turf-gazing after one has hit the ball, which is recommended by the

leading authorities of the game, is absolutely bad golf, for it must

inevitably interfere with the follow-through.

At page 174 of _The Complete Golfer_ Vardon says:

Keep your eye on the ball until you have hit it, but no

longer. You cannot follow through properly with a long shot

if your eye remains fastened on the ground. Hit the ball and

then let your eye pick it up in its flight as quickly as

possible. Of course this needs skilful timing and management,

but precision will soon become habitual.

It was by the merest chance that I saw this passage after I had

written my chapter on "The Function of the Eyes," although I am now

incorporating it herein.

I am very glad to have Vardon's authority to back me up in

discrediting the silly idea about turf-studying; but although I have

him with me I cannot hold him guiltless of spreading the error, for he

has been photographed _repeatedly_ illustrating it in a style which he

never uses in actual play. This may be seen in the series of

photographs in _Fry's Magazine_ already referred to, and also at pages

89 and 97 of _Great Golfers_, wherein this great player is shown in

positions which in actual play he would not understand how to get

into; but people who know no better, and have not the real power of

comparative analysis and close thinking, are led away and suffer for

this kind of foolishness merely because it is associated with a great

name.

[Illustration: PLATE VIII. EDWARD RAY

This plate shows the champion's tremendous finish in the

drive. Ray, at the top of his stroke, gets much of his weight

on his right foot, but does not advise others to do so.]

In connection with this matter of the function of the eye there is an

interesting point which I have not seen mentioned in any golf book--a

point which makes it, if anything, more necessary for one to insist

upon the vast importance of the maxim "Keep your eye on the ball,"

although it is fallaciously preached both before and after impact.

This point is that there is just before impact a very considerable

portion of the travel of the head of the golf club during which the

ball is practically never seen by the golfer. This is what I may

call the golfer's "blind spot." It exists in practically all ball

games where the ball is struck by a bat or other implement of that

kind. Its existence, of course, is well known in cricket. I have

played lawn-tennis for twenty years, and I do not believe that I have

at any time during that period seen my racket hit the ball when

actually playing. I have seen it do it when I have made up my mind to

watch the ball and forget other matters, but in actual play one does

not do this. One plays the stroke with the utmost naturalness. The

ball is coming towards one and one gauges the distance and strikes.

One knows that whatever happens one's stroke is made for good or ill,

and there is in many strokes a blind spot of fully six to nine inches

in length.

I have had some wonderful photographs of this blind spot wherein it is

shown most clearly that the lawn-tennis player is looking right away

from his ball long before he has struck it. I think it is beyond

question that this same blind spot exists in golf. I have no doubt

whatever that, perfect player as he is, there is in Harry Vardon's

stroke a blind spot of at least five inches. Few people who have not

studied this question can realise the incredible rapidity with which

the head of a golf club travels. I am well aware that there are many

photographs of Harry Vardon in existence, which show him carefully

studying the turf after the ball has gone on its way. I am also well

aware that these photographs were taken to illustrate the fact that he

does engage in turf-studying after the ball has gone on its way. I am

also well aware that in actual play he does nothing of the kind, and

that his beautiful, free, and natural finish is as different from the

stiff and constrained photographs shown when he does not lift his

head, as chalk is from cheese.

I have watched Harry Vardon many and many a time, and I am absolutely

certain that in his natural play he has no thought whatever in his

mind of gazing at the turf after his ball has gone away. There is

nothing whatever to be gained by doing so, and there is much to be

lost. Any attempt whatever to anchor the head by gazing at the turf

after the ball has gone away, and then afterwards to allow it to

resume its place, together with the shoulders, in the swing of the

follow-through, is mere futility, and must result in absolutely

spoiling the rhythm of the swing and a proper follow-through.

There is no player in the world who could be taken as a finer example

than Harry Vardon, of the fact that in the golf swing and at the

moment of impact there must be no restraint whatever on the movement

of the shoulders and the head. They must work together with the club

head and the ball. If they do not all move at the same time something

is out of gear.

In the game of blindfolded golf which I have referred to, the

professional player took his stance, addressed his ball, and was then

blindfolded with a handkerchief, an operation which naturally took

some considerable time, but even as it was, he played some

astonishingly good shots even when his whole swing was blindfolded. He

should have had a pair of spectacles lined with cotton wadding or some

similar material and fastened with an elastic band, which could have

been lifted up whilst he was taking his address and closed down the

moment he was ready to make his stroke. This would have given him a

better chance to demonstrate what he desired to, which, as I have

already said, was in itself practically sound.

I have spoken of Harry Vardon's blind spot, and I have said that it is

a matter of five inches. As a matter of fact it may quite well often

be double that; but it seems to me perfectly plain that nothing

whatever that Vardon can do when his club is within a foot of the

ball, so long as he keeps his head steady or still, is likely to alter

the path of the club head--I am speaking now, of course, of any normal

golf stroke. This consideration of the matter brings us back to the

statement which I have made time and time again, and in which I am

supported by James Braid, that once the golf stroke is commenced, the

fact of it connecting with the ball is merely an incident in the path

of the club head; and that after the club head has proceeded a certain

distance on the way to the ball it is beyond the power of the player

to alter the character of that stroke, for his force has been

irretrievably directed, in so far as regards that particular stroke,

in a particular manner.

Speaking of the position of the head in driving, Taylor says:

The head is maintained in exactly the same position as the

arms are brought down again, and so it remains until the ball

has been swept from the tee. The arms and body for all

practical purposes go through the same action, but in the

reverse way as in the upward swing, the body being held in a

similar position, but with the head turned and eyes looking

over the right shoulder at the finish of the stroke.

During the progress of this downward movement the weight of

the body is again transferred, passing from the right leg to

the left, until when the finish arrives the whole of the

weight has been placed upon the left foot, while the right

has assumed the position previously held by its neighbour.

We see here in a very marked degree the fallacy of the distribution of

the weight so that at the top of the swing the greater portion of it

is on the right leg; for Taylor, although he tells us that "the head

is maintained in exactly the same position," says that "during the

progress of this downward movement the weight of the body is again

transferred, passing from the right leg to the left."

It is a very natural question for us to ask, "How can all this

shifting of the body be going on if the head is to be kept perfectly

still?" As a matter of fact it is a physical impossibility; and it is

also obvious that it would be impossible to keep the head still,

rigidly fixed, as we are told it should be, at the moment of impact,

and yet to get a true follow-through.

Let us read a little farther on, and we see that Taylor says: "If the

ball has been struck there must be no semblance of checking or

snatching at the club. The player must not check himself or allow

premonitory symptoms of a check to make themselves felt even in the

slightest degree. He must allow the club head to follow the line of

flight of the ball as straight and as far as is possible." It stands

to reason that if one's head remains fixed for an instant after the

impact of the club with the ball, that instant the club head must feel

the tendency to be drawn out of the straight line to the hole, and the

follow-through down the line to the hole, which is so properly

insisted on by all great golfers, is ruined.

Taylor continues: "The arms must be thrown forward freely and

naturally, and as a consequence the right shoulder must be allowed to

swing forward too." This should effectually dispose of the idea of

holding the head still after the ball has left the ground, for the

simple reason that if the head and neck be held still, it will be a

matter of utter impossibility for the right shoulder to go through and

down the line to the hole as it should.

I must emphasise this matter a little more strongly by Taylor's own

words, for it is of very great importance in the golf drive.

Continuing, he says, in reference to the fact that the arms must be

allowed to go forward freely and naturally and that therefore the

right shoulder must be allowed to swing forward:

By doing this the involuntary checking of the swing is

rendered impossible; but if arms and shoulders were to be

held tightly under control and as rigid as steel, the stroke

would be finished as soon as the head of the club had been

brought into contact with the ball. Every stroke in golf must

be played freely, every muscle of the body must be allowed to

do its full share of the necessary work.

That is undoubtedly so; but if one arbitrarily fixes the position of

one's head as a stationary point in the golf swing after the ball has

gone on its journey, one prevents the right leg doing its share of the

work in shifting the weight forward down the line towards the hole,

and therefore one, to a very great extent, ruins one's follow-through.

This is a point which, in my mind, is of very great importance to the

drive, and it is, in so far as regards the function of the eyes, one

of the most pronounced fallacies of the many fallacious statements

with which unfortunate golfers are loaded.

This blind spot which I have referred to, exists, as I have already

said, in practically every game wherein the ball is struck with an

implement. It is found in lacrosse, racquets, tennis, cricket,

lawn-tennis, polo, base-ball, hockey, ping-pong, and even in

billiards; but the probability is that the farther the striking

surface of the club or other implement is from the eye, the less is

the blind spot; and this is very fortunate for the golfer, for his

margin of error is so small that it is of great importance to him to

reduce this blind spot to a negligible quantity. But on the other

hand, as a matter of scientific and accurate golf, he will make nearly

as great a mistake in his golf if, in his endeavour to follow out the

well-known and useful maxim, "Keep your eye on the ball," he acquires

the habit of turf-gazing after the ball has gone on its way to the

hole.

I have before had occasion to refer to the book entitled _The Mystery

of Golf_, and I have already, in part, touched upon some of the

author's curious ideas with regard to the analysis of the golfing

stroke. At page 159 he tells us that "the arms do not judge distance

(save when we are actually touching something) nor does the body, nor

does the head. The judging is done by the eyes." I am afraid that we

cannot deny that the judging is, in all cases, done by the eye,

because it is obvious that if we had not the use of our eyes, we

should not be able to see the ball; but the author seems to overlook

the somewhat important fact that although the arms do not judge

distance, yet they _measure_ it, and this matter of measurement is a

matter of extreme importance, as is exemplified in the case of play

out of a bunker where one has to measure the distance without

grounding the club.

On the same page the author says: "If the eyes look up before the ball

is hit, the muscles do not receive the proper orders to hit, and the

most important part of the stroke is done blindly. That is my theory";

and a most remarkable theory it is too. The muscles received their

proper orders to hit at the moment the stroke was begun, and lifting

the eyes a moment before impact would not affect the stroke if the

head remained in the same position. Lifting the eyes is in nearly

every case, as I have already pointed out, an action following on

lifting the mind. The mind has been allowed to come off the stroke

because the player's mental picture of the stroke has been completed

long before the physical act. In other words, he has got ahead of his

stroke. Then his head comes up, which of course is fatal to good

golf.

It is a very remarkable circumstance that the attempted analysis by

the author of _The Mystery of Golf_ shows clearly that he has entered

upon his task with but a very faint idea of sport generally, and he is

in this respect much handicapped in his efforts. Let us consider what

he has to say with regard to lifting the eye in golf. We read on page

164:

I have sometimes thought that there are two simple and

especial reasons for this difficulty of keeping one's eye on

the ball: first, because there is nothing to stimulate the

attention; second, because one has to attend so long. In

cricket, tennis, racquets, as I have shown, the stimulus is

extreme; by consequence, your eye follows the ball like a

hawk. In billiards there is no stimulus, but you rarely, if

ever, take your eye off your ball in billiards. Why? I think

because (1) the ball is so near to the eye--and, therefore,

the stimulus strong; (2) because the period of time requisite

for the stroke is so short. In golf there is no stimulus and

the period is always long: you have to look at your ball for

more than the whole period of the upward and downward swings.

This remarkable statement shows very clearly, as I have before said,

that the author is not practically acquainted with games generally,

for lifting the eye is common in practically every game where a ball

is used. And it is amazing to find anyone attempting to analyse such a

stroke as the golf stroke and at the same time making the statement

that "you rarely, if ever, take your eye off your ball in billiards";

and he proceeds to give reasons why one rarely takes one's eye off

one's ball in billiards, whereas the game of billiards is an

outstanding illustration of the fact that one does take one's eye off

the ball. To a very great extent one plays one's stroke at billiards

with a most pronounced blind spot every time, in that, just prior to

the moment of striking the cue ball, one always looks at the object

ball and practically one never sees one's cue on to one's own ball.

Also, it is open to doubt if the golf stroke takes, on the average,

from the time the club leaves the ball in its upward swing until the

moment of impact, any longer than the billiard player takes in playing

his stroke. If it does, the difference is not a matter which need

enter into any practical comparison of the strokes.

The curious thing is that in the game instanced by the author as

possessing the greater stimulus, that is those games wherein the ball

is moving, as in cricket, tennis, racquets, the tendency to lift the

eye from the ball is much more pronounced than in those games where

the ball is stationary, and this, I think, is by no means unnatural.

The operation of the eye is incredibly swift. It catches the flight of

the oncoming ball and one plays the stroke to meet it. In playing a

stroke at a moving ball, it stands to reason that one has, all other

things being equal, less time between the beginning of the stroke and

impact than one would have in executing a similar blow where the ball

is stationary, for here we have merely the pace of one moving object

to deal with, whereas we have in the other case the pace of the two

moving objects added together.

It seems to me clear, therefore, that the eye has been able to

ascertain much more rapidly what will happen in the case of the two

moving objects, and having decided definitely that the stroke must be

played in a certain way, the mind has given to the muscles the

necessary orders, and the eye has then gone out of business so far as

regards that particular stroke, and we get the astonishing result that

we find famous players at lawn-tennis playing their strokes with a

blind spot of, in many cases, as much as nine inches. This is beyond

the region of doubt, and can be proved to demonstration by numerous

photographs, so it will be seen that even if there were anything

whatever in the suggested comparisons, they are fundamentally unsound

in their premises, and therefore absolutely useless for any purposes

of practical golf.

We are told at page 166: "If you _don't_ keep your eye on the ball,

your stroke is cut short the moment you take your eye off." This is

obviously an error. Let us imagine that the golfer has played his

stroke perfectly accurately up to within three inches of his ball and

then takes his eye away from it, will any practical golfer believe

that if he keeps his head still the fact of moving his eye is going to

alter that stroke in any way whatever? I think not.

Again we are informed at page 167 that: "It is at all events

indisputable that any photograph showing a good follow-through shows

the player looking at the spot where the ball was, after the ball had

left it; proving that he was really looking at the ball when he hit."

Personally, I may say that I have never yet seen a photograph of a

good follow-through which did show the player looking at the spot

where the ball was after the ball had left it, for photographs of that

nature which I have seen showed most clearly that if one desires to

absolutely prevent oneself from following through, one of the best

methods of doing it is to cultivate the habit of studying the turf

after the ball has gone on its way to the hole.

In this we know that we have Vardon entirely with us. His

corroboration is valuable for the point is of great and practical

importance to the game.

The Soul of Golf · 第 7 / 13 章